


And Baby Makes Three

by anythingbutplatonic



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Canon Divergent, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-10
Updated: 2015-06-10
Packaged: 2018-04-03 19:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 64,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4112488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingbutplatonic/pseuds/anythingbutplatonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.</p><p>Originally completed on Tumblr January 21st 2013.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this awful. Maybe if he lay as still as possible, he wouldn’t throw up again. 

It had been a daily occurrence for Blaine to find himself like this for the past week, crouched in one of the toilet stalls in the boys’ bathroom or else curled on the floor of his own bathroom at home, willing his stomach to stop churning like the barrel of a cement mixer long enough for him to swallow some water to get rid of the horrible taste in his mouth from vomiting. 

The strange thing was, the nausea never stayed for long. It came and went in vicious waves, sending him out of AP History, out of gym, out of Glee practice to the nearest bathroom - he even had to cut a Skype call with Kurt short once, barely saying goodbye before rushing to the toilet, leaving Kurt shocked and worried at his sudden departure.  

It was also never at the same time of day more than once. It was unpredictable, and that was the worst part of it. 

He also had no idea what was wrong with him. 

 

At first, he’d suspected food poisoning, but that was quickly dismissed after the first two days, because food poisoning usually didn’t last that long if it wasn’t serious. Then he thought it must be stomach flu; but he wasn’t shivering, he didn’t have a fever, nor a headache. 

In fact, the only thing he seemed to be suffering from was nausea. That, and the inexplicable ache that had developed around his hips, which he put down to not sitting right at his desk at night when he did his homework. 

Sitting up gingerly, he reached for the bottle of water in his bag, hoping he’d be able to keep down whatever he drank long enough to go back to class. 

                           —————————————————

He hadn’t slept properly for days.

Most nights he was wide awake, fighting off nausea and the hot flush that seemed to creep over his skin like ghostly fingers, making him sweaty and restless. The sickness still hadn’t gone away, and Blaine was no closer to figuring out why.

On the third day, after his mom found him on the cool floor of their bathroom when she went to get a glass of water, he resulted to find out what was making him so sick.

So during lunch, he went to the library. It wasn’t like he could stomach eating anything anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal. Luckily, it was nearly empty, so he grabbed a computer and immediately logged on to one of those health websites that let you search for your symptoms, and it’ll give you a list of possible diagnoses. 

Blaine studied the list carefully, ticking off the ones that applied to him. 

_Tiredness/lack of sleep_

_Difficulty sleeping_

_Nausea/vomiting_

_Joint pain_

It was random, to say the least. He only hoped it would come up with a valid explanation. 

After a few minutes, it came up with a list of results. Or rather, just one. 

_Flu._

Well, he’d already ruled that one out. 

He clicked back to the main list of symptoms and ticked off  _Restlessness_ _._

One more result.

_Diabetes._

He was pretty sure that if he was diabetic, he’d know by now, so he could safely rule that one out as well. 

Then he saw a list of questions that made his already uneasy stomach churn.

**_Do you experience frequent bouts of nausea that come and go?_ **

_Yes_ , he thought. 

**_Are you tired although you get more than eight hours’ sleep a night?_ **

_Yes,_  was the answer to that question too. 

**_If so, these could indicate pregnancy and it is best to consult your doctor._ **

Pregnancy? Why would he be pregnant? He was a guy; it was impossible for him to be. 

No, it wasn’t impossible. But it was very, very rare. So rare, in fact, that you only had about a handful of cases every year - he remembered reading about them,once. 

There was no way it would have happened to him. He and Kurt had used protection that night - no, it was impossible.

But condoms could break. And these things could - and do - happen. 

Shaking, he switched off the computer and sat back in the chair, ignoring the way his stomach twisted with nausea in protest at the movement.

If he really was - he couldn’t bring himself to think it - then this would mean a whole load of complications. 

He’d have to tell Kurt. 

He’d have to tell his friends. 

He’d have to tell his  _parents._

He’d have to decide whether or not he was going to keep his child.

He would have to decide whether or not he was going to go to college, because he couldn’t go to New York  _and_  raise a baby.

But he knew that before he did anything, he’d have to know for sure. And that meant going to the drugstore on his way home from school and buying as many pregnancy tests as his savings would allow. 

He’d be lying if he wasn’t scared. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

Sitting on the toilet seat, his head in his hands, Blaine didn’t think he’d ever spend a longer three minutes in his life. 

Two white pregnancy tests lay on top of the radiator in the bathroom, glaring against the off-white of the wall behind it, and they drew his eye every few seconds, though he knew there was a minute and a half to go yet; he was timing it with his watch. He’d taken two just to be sure; there were another three waiting if he wasn’t convinced. 

Not that he expected to get a false positive. 

 

It had dawned on him now, sitting there, the full reality of what he was facing. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that the impossible had become possible, and that he was in fact pregnant. And more than that, it was Kurt’s child.

It wouldn't  _be_  anyone else’s. 

He looked at his watch. Thirty seconds…..twenty-five seconds….twenty seconds…..

He felt sick, sicker than he had done that morning, than he’d felt for most of the afternoon just thinking about it. 

He had no idea what he’d do if it turned out positive. What  _could_  he do? In his view, very little; but he would, at least, have to let someone know. His mom, maybe, or Sam. Someone who wouldn’t judge him outright, someone who would understand.

 _Someone like Kurt, if only he was ready to take me back_.

Blaine knew it was selfish to expect anything less of Kurt than full commitment to him, to expect him to come running back to him after they were together at the wedding, but it was still there, the tiny flame of hope that flickered brightly at the back of his mind. it kept him going and fuelled him when he felt himself slipping back down that slippery slope, where everything was futile and the world meaningless. 

He couldn’t even let himself get excited at the possibility of having a baby. The idea was too frightening to comprehend anything more than worry and anxiety about what he would do, what people would say. What  _Kurt_ would say, when - and if - Blaine told him. 

Ten seconds…..eight seconds….seven seconds….six seconds….five seconds…..four seconds…..three….two…… _one_.

Slowly, and with a trembling hand, he turned the first test over. 

And felt his stomach drop out of his body.

_Positive._

He turned over the second.

_Positive._

He wouldn’t need the other two; he already knew what they would say. 

He was pregnant. And his ex-boyfriend was the other father. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

It had been another week since the two pregnancy tests he’d taken came up positive, and it was getting more and more difficult to avoid the subject of his mysterious and sporadic illness, in their eyes at least, around his friends. 

Brittany kept giving him strange looks for eating hard candy in class - it was the only thing that kept the morning sickness at bay - and there had been a tense moment when he’d had to hold his breath and nod vigorously when Tina asked if he was okay in homeroom, because he couldn’t exactly tell her that the scent of her perfume was making him feel sick. 

It was also hard to hide anything from Sam, who was a lot more perceptive than people gave him credit for. Blaine knew he was only concerned about him, but he couldn’t tell him the truth - not yet. He was having a hard time already admitting it to himself, let alone to anyone else. 

 

He felt completely alone, carrying this secret with him - literally - and unable to tell anyone. Most nights he was kept awake not only by nausea but by thoughts of what he should do, what he  _could_  do, what he wanted to do. But he didn't  _know_  what he wanted to do.  _  
_

He knew he didn’t want to terminate the pregnancy. He didn’t think he could go through with something like that, just sweep it from his life as if it didn’t matter. But the other two options - adoption, or keeping the baby and raising him or her himself - were both equally alien to him.

Then there was the issue of telling Kurt. He had a right to know; it  _was_  his baby too. But something was stopping him from making that call, from telling him during one of their regular Skype sessions. He knew he couldn’t just come out with it; he’d have to take his time. But how much time was too much time? He hadn’t even the courage to see a doctor yet, though he knew it was important that he did.

He was just too afraid. 

                        ——————————————————–

During Glee practice on Friday afternoon, he was forced to run from the room once more to throw up, having escaped the sickness for most of the day. He should have known it was too good to be true. 

Crouching on the floor in a stall in the boys’ bathroom, shaking, he breathed hard and tried to will his body to go back to normal. It seemed like a constant reminder of the huge, enormous situation he’d got himself into. Just when he and Kurt were finally looking as though they might really be getting somewhere, that the possibility of trying again looked like it was on the cards, he had to go and ruin it by getting pregnant. 

Was there a more enormous way to screw up a relationship than this? Blaine certainly didn’t think so. Except, perhaps, for the reason they had parted ways in the first place. 

He was too wrapped up in his thoughts to hear someone come into the bathroom and look into each stall in turn. It was Sam, come looking for him after he bolted from Glee so suddenly - the second time that week. He only heard the squeak of his sneakers when he was right outside the stall.

“Dude, you in here? I just wanted to see if you’re okay." 

Blaine didn’t answer at first - mostly because he still felt pretty sick - but also because he was afraid of being forced to admit the truth. 

"Uh, yeah, yeah I’m in here.” He winced at how shaky his voice sounded, is throat raw from throwing up so much. Sam stuck his head round the door of the stall, brows knitted together with concern.

“You sure? You look kind of….green.” He paused. “And kind of white, dude. Are you sick?”

_Do I really look that bad? Has anyone else noticed?_ _Does anyone else care?_

“You wanna talk about it?” Sam asked again, when Blaine didn’t reply.  _What’s there to talk about?_ He thought.  _I’ve already ruined everything once, and now I’m going to ruin everything again._

Sam opened the door of the stall fully and looked Blaine right in the eye, as though scanning him for a degree of the truth. 

Blaine swallowed, hard. “It’s complicated." 

"I’ve got time.” Sam folded and unfolded his arms. 

“Okay. But can it wait till after practice? I don’t - I don’t really want to talk about it here." 

"Deal." 

                         __________________________________

They eventually decided to go to the Lima Bean. It was crowded, so there was less chance of Blaine being overheard. He didn’t exactly want the entire population of Lima finding out. 

Still feeling a little ill, he sat back in his seat whilst Sam got them coffee - he almost asked for decaf, because that’s what he should be drinking now, now regular coffee, but it would look too suspicious. His stomach was crawling with nerves at the thought of telling Sam, but what choice did he have? He trusted him; he knew that, if asked, he wouldn’t tell anyone else. 

Sam was his best friend. Apart from Kurt, that is. And he was tired of keeping it all to himself, even if it was what his mind was telling him to do. 

When Sam came back with the drinks, Blaine’s heart started to race a mile a minute; he felt his palms getting damp with a nervous sweat. He took a sip of his coffee to distract himself whilst he thought of what exactly he was going to  _say_. It wasn’t like he had much practice with this kind of thing. 

"Now.” Sam started, rather businesslike but with an undertone of worry in his voice. “Are you going to tell me why you ran out of Glee club again? It’s like, the second time you’ve done that this week. And you did it last week, too." 

Blaine put his coffee down. "I’ve been….pretty sick….these past couple weeks,” he began, “but it doesn’t happen all the time, it comes and goes. But mostly it’s in the morning.” He watched Sam’s expression carefully, willing him to understand. 

He didn’t want to have to say it out loud.

“So you  _have_  been sick. I knew it. But why didn’t you tell anyone, like the nurse or somebody? Why have you been keeping it a secret?” Sam thought for a moment, and then something seemed to dawn on him, and then he blurted, “You’re not dying, are you?”

Blaine almost laughed aloud, snorting into his coffee cup to keep himself from doing so. He shook his head. 

“No. No, I’m not." 

"Then what is it?” Sensing Blaine’s hesitance, he added, “You can tell me. We’re bros. I’d tell you if something was wrong." 

"I’m pregnant." 

Sam almost dropped his coffee all over his lap; his mouth gaped open slightly for a few seconds, and he stared, disbelieving, until he snapped it shut and composed himself, embarrassed at his own reaction. 

"Yeah.” Blaine forced a laugh. “Pretty much." 

"Kurt?" 

"Yeah.”

“But when…..?” Sam frowned.

“Mr Schue’s wedding. Well, almost wedding.” Blaine said. Sam let out a low whistle. 

“I didn’t even know that was possible." 

"It happens. It’s rare, but it happens.” Blaine said. He fidgeted with the rim of his coffee cup, just for something to do with his hands. 

“I’m - I'm  _scared_ , Sam. I don’t know what to do." 

"Well, have you been to a doctor yet?” he asked, practical now, but there was a flicker of something else in his face. Sympathy. Concern. 

“No. I couldn’t - I couldn’t face it. I can’t.” It was true; he just couldn’t bring himself to go. It was too sudden, too real. 

“Dude, you gotta go. You’re need, like, check-ups and stuff. If you’re keeping it, I mean. Are you?" 

"I don’t know. I don’t know  _anything._ " 

"Then let me help you. Make an appointment. I’ll even go with you if you want me to." 

At this, Blaine’s head snapped up, and he met Sam’s gaze. 

"I’m serious. Whatever you decide to do, you won’t have to do this alone." 

For the first time that day, Blaine smiled. "Thanks.”

“Whatever, dude.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

He was going to see a doctor that following Monday.

Sam had made the appointment, having found a doctor in the district whose expertise was pregnancy in men, Blaine being unable to out of the sheer inability to tackle his….situation head-on. Fear, and anxiety, kept him from making the decisions that needed to be made, and he wasn’t even sure if he  _ever_  wanted to make them. 

It was almost too much for one person to handle, on top of upcoming assignment deadlines and practice for Regionals, SAT prep and college applications. 

 _College applications._ He wasn’t even sure if college was an option for him anymore. 

 

He didn’t even know what his options  _were_. Staying in Lima. Community college. A menial dead-end job. He knew what happened to people who had children this young; he knew some of them, from around the area where he lived. 

Would be one of them?  _Could_  he be one of them? 

Did he have any other choice?

 _Slow down_ , he told himself.  _You haven’t even seen a doctor yet._  But he wasn’t sure if that would make things better or worse. Once it was confirmed by a doctor, there was no going back, it was actually happening.

And he and Kurt had been doing so well.

He was sure Kurt was getting suspicious, too, because he kept giving him odd looks over Skype and his eyebrows were often contorted in concern through the camera, an expression of earnestness on his face which made Blaine feel even worse that he was keeping this from him. 

                    ________________________________

The night before his doctors’ appointment, Blaine lay wide awake on top of the duvet, too warm under the thick comforter to get comfortable and sleep; not that he  _could_ sleep, anticipating as he was what would happen the following afternoon. 

He’d been thinking about it all day, and the more he thought about it, the more he was glad that Sam had agreed pretty much instantaneously to go with him. He didn’t have to; he certainly hadn’t expected him to, but he did, and he was grateful for that. Just knowing that someone else  _knew_  was a relief, even if the fear was still there, thick and palpable on the air that he breathed. 

He rolled over onto his side, ignoring the uncomfortable twist of nausea, and looked at the clock on the nightstand. 2AM. He’d gone to bed hours ago, but had barely slept at all. 

Rolling back over onto his back, he stared at the ceiling. The dull ache in his hips was still there, making it difficult to lie on his back, and he knew now that it was because his pelvis was expanding, to make room for the baby as it grew. He only expected the discomfort to get worse. 

Slowly, gingerly, as though expecting to be scalded, he let his fingers trail under his pyjama shirt, so that they rested just over the spot where he supposed the baby was.

It was strange, strange to think that there was something - someone - in there right now, growing and developing into someone new, who would - if he so chose - be dependent on him for life and comfort and sustenance. He put his hand flat on the warm skin of his stomach, trying to imagine what it would be like a few months from now, when he was a lot bigger and it would be noticeable that he was pregnant. 

It was scary.

                     ____________________________________

“You still want to do this?” Sam asked as they pulled up outside the clinic, disguised as a run-down office. He figured it was so other people like him could come and go without looking suspicious, or revealing their condition. “You can still cancel the appointment." 

Blaine shook his head. "No - I want to. I have to.”

“Okay.”

They went in. Blaine’s heart thumped almost painfully under his sweater; he was extremely conscious of where he was. They were the only ones there, which was a relief. Sam gave his name to the receptionist and they sat down, Blaine jigging his leg up and down nervously as the clock on the wall ticked past one, two, three, four, five, six minutes. 

“Blaine Anderson?”

 _Oh God, that’s me._  

“You still want me to go in with you?” Sam asked, his hand on Blaine’s arm in a comforting gesture. 

“Please. If you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.”

Slowly, as if he was wading through deep water, he followed a small red-haired nurse into a too-white, too-bright examination room, Sam behind him. He wrung his hands and tried not to look at the posters on the wall showing various diagrams of embryos in different stages of development, to not think  _that’s going to be_ my _baby in a few months_.

He sat on the edge of the thin white bed, trying to stop his hands from shaking.

“Nervous?” the red-haired nurse asked him as she busied herself with a large machine, a sonogram machine. 

“Yes.” His mouth was dry as sand. 

“Not to worry, everyone is at first. Not surprising, given your age - I didn’t realize you were this young.” Blaine felt himself flush with embarrassment. “And this is-?” she glanced in Sam’s direction. 

“A friend.” Blaine supplied. “I couldn’t come on my own.”

“Understandable.” The nurse smiled. “Well, I suppose I’d better introduce myself. My name is Dr. Marshall, I’m an expert in male pregnancy, one of only two in the district. It’s lucky for you that I’m based here in Lima. Now, I need to ask you a few questions….”

Blaine answered the questions on autopilot, not really noticing what he was saying. Dr. Marshall asked him about the frequency of his morning sickness, the date of conception, any other symptoms such as tiredness and back or hip pain, and other questions about his diet and level of physical activity. 

The more he talked, the more nervous he got, because the more he spoke about it, the more real it became to him. 

“So,” Dr. Marshall said cheerfully, in what he thought was an attempt at making him feel more at ease, “do you want to see your baby? I need to confirm the date of your pregnancy, anyway, so we can figure out your due date.”

“Um, okay." 

He didn’t feel like himself as he lay down on the bed, lifted his shirt and sweater up so that Dr. Marshall could do a sonogram. This was somebody else’s life, not his, and he was looking down upon it from somewhere above - was this what an out-of-body experience was? 

Breathing hard, he gasped a little at the cold of the gel, then recoiled from the pressure of the wand on his stomach. After a few moments, the blank screen on the machine’s monitor filled with a black-and-white image.

"See there?” Dr. Marshall said, pointing to a small, grey and white patch on the screen, “that’s your baby. And it looks as if you’re about three weeks along, so…..your due date is between October 23rd and October 26th." 

Blaine couldn’t speak. It was as if something had caught in his throat, cutting off his air supply. That was his and Kurt’s baby, there on the screen right in front of his eyes. It was real and it was there, and he suddenly felt as if he were being held from a great height; that swooping, sickening feeling you get when the elevator swings upwards, jolting your stomach and feeling, for a moment, as if it may jump out of your body altogether. 

He didn’t even realize, through this incredible, overwhelming sense of simultaneous panic and exaltation, that Sam had been holding his shaking hand the entire time.

                       __________________________________

He was able to keep it together until Sam took him home. A monochrome  image of the sonogram folded in his pocket, he climbed out of Sam’s car rigidly, his limbs feeling as though they were made of wood. 

He had no idea what to think. Seeing it….seeing him or her…..had made him so  _happy_  and so scared at the same time, unable to breath but wanting to shout out from the rooftops. On the one hand, it had been terrifying. On the other, a sobering - and somewhat comforting - experience. 

Suddenly, his throat was burning for an entirely different reason; the backs of his eyes prickled furiously, and his breath turned into long, drawn-out gasps.  _Don’t cry_ , he told himself fiercely.  _Not in front of Sam_.  _Don’t you dare cry._

But he couldn’t help it. 

His chest constricted painfully, and he let himself start to weep, not caring that salty tears streamed down his face onto the collar of his shirt. It was the first time he’d properly cried since he and Kurt had broken up,  that first week when he did nothing  _but_  cry because he was so ashamed of what he’d done. 

At the same time, he felt a pair of strong arms come around him -  _Sam_  - and hold him there as he shook, rubbing across his back gently. It felt nice. 

He didn’t know how long he stood there, crying as Sam held him without speaking, but when he was done, he was still trembling. He dried his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater, wiped it across his face to remove the tear-tracks on his cheeks. 

"Thanks.” He sniffed. “For coming with me.”

“It’s not a problem, dude. I was happy to do it.”

He reached into his pocket and felt the folded edge of the sonogram photograph. He knew now that he couldn’t just abandon this baby - he couldn’t give it - him or her - up. He didn’t think he’d be able to.

It was cliche, but seeing it on that screen in Dr. Marshall’s office had made him realize that he would have to face up to the responsibility. More than that, he  _wanted_  to, and even though he was still scared, he felt that it was the right thing to do. 

He’d begin by telling Kurt. 

He was going to tell him the next time he went to New York for a visit, which was two weeks from now. 

He hoped to whatever higher power there was that existed up in the sky that he got the reaction he wanted.  


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

Adam was nice. No, Adam was  _lovely_. He was kind, charming, easy-going and very, very talented.

So why did Kurt not feel anything when they were together?

Ever since the wedding, ever since he and Blaine had sort of/may have/could have got back together, at least in the physical sense, he’d felt himself become less and less interested in Adam as potential boyfriend, and more interested in him as just a friend. 

Could hooking up with your ex-boyfriend really change your feelings that much? 

 

He resisted it, at first, tried to stop himself from thinking about Blaine himself when he and Adam went out or hung out in the loft or went for coffee or watched a movie. He tried not to imagine Blaine, when he watched Adam rehearse with his group. He tried not to picture Blaine’s smile when Adam smiled at him. He tried not to hear his voice when Adam complimented him. 

He was tired of trying.

He knew exactly what he was feeling; had known it from the moment he’d grabbed Blaine by his tie and pulled him into the back of the Prius at the wedding. 

He still loved him. He always had, and he was just kidding himself if he tried to convince himself otherwise. Kurt did love Blaine. He knew he did. And it was getting harder and harder to pretend that he didn’t.

Which was why he didn’t feel guilty about being concerned when he Skyped Blaine that evening and noticed that he looked, well,  _awful._  

“Are you okay?” he’d asked, over and over, and every time Blaine had replied with an overly-cheerful, “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”, which naturally let Kurt to think that there  _was_  something to worry about - something that he wasn’t telling him. 

And Blaine had never kept a secret from him before. 

                  __________________________________

“Okay, what is  _up_  with you?" 

Blaine jumped when Tina appeared at his side, looking hurt and annoyed at the same time. At least she’d abandoned the perfume. 

"You and Sam have been really conspiratorial for the past couple of weeks and you’ve barely spoken to me. Is this because of what happened between me and Kurt at the wedding? Are you mad at me because I fought with him?”

“No! No, of course not. I’m not mad at you.” He said quickly, shutting his locker and shifting his books from one arm to the other. “It’s just…..personal stuff."  _Very, very personal stuff._

"Nothing I can help with?” she asked. 

“No, sorry." 

"But Sam knows." 

"Yes.” This was starting to get awkward. What could be say to her that would get her off his back without hurting her feelings or making it seem like he was pushing her away?

“Well, if you want to talk….you know where I am." 

"Thanks.”

He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile, then ducked into the boys’ bathroom as soon as she’d walked away to throw up noisily, silently cursing whoever’s idea it was that pregnant people should get morning sickness. 

               ________________________________________

He wasn’t altogether sure how it happened. 

One minute they’d been practicing a rather elaborate choreography for Regionals, and the next he was half-sitting, half-lying on the floor of the choir-room, dizzy and faint and only half aware of his surroundings. 

Someone was telling him to “Just breathe.” He thought it might have been Sam, or Ryder. Several girls were talking in low, rapid voices somewhere above him - Marley, he thought, and Tina and Sugar - and Mr Schue was asking someone if they should call an ambulance. 

“M'fine,” he mumbled, “just need to lie down….m'fine….." 

"You’re not.” This was definitely Sam. “I’m taking you to the nurse.”

“Okay…”

He allowed himself to be picked up, legs weak underneath him, and half-carried out of the room, supported by Sam’s taller, stronger body. 

“I’m taking you home, okay? I’ll just tell everyone the nurse sent you out of school, they won’t ask questions. I’ll bring your car round after football practice.”

“Thanks….”

He didn’t really register the ride home, or being helped upstairs in his own house by Sam. He was still feeling faint and just wanted to rest.

Collapsing onto the bed, he immediately shut his eyes and tried to ignore what was going on around him. 

                       ________________________________

Kurt was worried. Blaine hadn’t answered any of the five texts he’d sent him that afternoon, nor either of his calls, and he usually picked up after the first ring, eager to talk and with plenty to say about the morning’s events. 

But so far, nothing. 

So he tried calling again after dinner - Chinese take out, Santana’s choice (they had a rota) - only to be met not with Blaine on the other end of the line, but with Sam.

“Why are you answering Blaine’s phone?” Kurt asked, confused, when he heard Sam’s “Hullo?” on the other end. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. He’s kind of sick right now and he’s sleeping, so I thought it’d be okay to pick up his cell for him if anyone called. That  _is_  okay, right?”

“Oh no, he won’t mind. But you said he was sick? What kind of sick? Is it serious?”

“Some virus, I think. I came to check on him 'cause his parents aren’t home." 

 _When are they ever home?_  Kurt thought bitterly. Was it his imagination, or did Sam seem hesitant when he spoke?

"Well, when he wakes up and if he’s feeling better, can you tell him to call me?”  _I miss talking to him._

“Will do, Kurt. Bye." 

He hung up. 

First Blaine acting weird, like he was hiding something, and now he was sick and Sam was taking messages for him? It wasn’t exactly usual. He had half a mind to call him back, to ask to speak to Blaine himself; but he wouldn’t dare wake him up if he was sleeping and feeling bad.

But he couldn’t shake a sense of uneasiness that something was going on that he didn’t know about, something important or serious that was being kept from him - and could Sam be in on it, too?

What had Blaine told Sam that he hadn’t felt able to tell Kurt?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

Halfway through March marked the fifth week of Blaine’s pregnancy, and his impending visit to New York to tell Kurt the truth.

Since his fainting episode in Glee, he had been more cautious not to over-exert himself during practice, keeping a bottle of water in his bag in case he got dehydrated - which he’d read on the Internet was common during pregnancy. 

He also noticed that the rest of the Glee club seemed to be walking on eggshells around him, as if he might pass out again. It was sweet, but annoying when he was trying to learn complicated choreography and they kept watching him out of the corner of their eyes with concerned expressions. 

Telling Kurt was one thing. Telling the Glee club was another thing altogether. 

 

He had also picked up the habit of rubbing his stomach whenever he sat or stood still, not so obvious that it was noticeable by other people, but just in tiny movements, as if comforting what was growing inside him; it felt nice, to be able to feel the baby there, or just know it was there. 

He was still scared, but it didn’t feel as overwhelming as it had before. 

And if everything went well this weekend, he wouldn’t have to feel so alone anymore. Sure, he had Sam, but knowing that Kurt accepted him and his situation -  _their_ situation - would mean the entire world to him. 

It didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous, however. He’d written and re-written what he was going to say over and over, using up several pieces of paper, each crumpled up into a ball and thrown into the trash can in his room with increasing frustration. How could he find the right words to say,  _I’m having your baby_? Were there any right words for this kind of thing?

In the end, he gave up trying to prepare a speech for the occasion and decided that he would just wait until the time was right. 

Friday could not come fast enough.

                      ________________________________

 _Flying was a bad idea_ , he thought to himself as he swallowed hard and pressed his hand to his flat - for now - stomach, wishing he’d opted to take the train to New York instead. Apparently, planes and pregnancy did not mix well. 

At least it was only a short flight, and he’d be in New York in a few hours. Kurt was originally supposed to pick him up at the airport, but there’d been a change of plans, so he was going straight to the apartment in Bushwick instead, making his own way from the airport. Not that he minded; he’d done it before. Plus, it’d give him time to think over ways in which to break his news to Kurt -  _without_  Rachel or Santana, or Brody for that matter, around to eavesdrop. 

He didn’t want them to know. 

Plugging in the earbuds for his iPod, he switched it to a playlist not very creatively titled “Sleep”, sat back in his seat, tried to ignore his churning stomach, and drifted off. 

                      _________________________________

A few hours later, he awoke abruptly to the hustle and bustle of people around him; the plane had landed. He realized that sleep had done him good; he felt loads better, and he shuffled off the plane with the rest of the passengers feeling refreshed. 

He was able to hail a taxi almost directly outside the airport, and he directed the driver to Bushwick, the nerves creeping up on him once more. He couldn’t help feeling a sense of deja vu; last October, he had come to New York to make a confession, too, but an altogether very different one from the one he was going to make this time. 

Watching the tall skyscrapers pass by on either side, he wondered what it might be like if he, by some miracle, ended up here too, either for college or for whatever other reason. He wasn’t sure what exactly his future held for him just yet, but he thought he could start by unloading his burden onto the one person to whom it would matter most, when the time came. 

Sooner rather than later, Bushwick came into view, and the driver pulled up outside the apartment block where Kurt, Rachel, Santana and at times Brody, all lived. Pushing a twenty-dollar bill into the driver’s hand, he climbed out and got his suitcase from the trunk of the taxi, thanked the driver and headed for the apartment. 

Blaine promptly remembered that it had no elevator, and therefore struggled under the weight of his suitcase, his newly-discovered fatigue (another side effect of being pregnant, he’d discovered) and his aching hips, to climb the insane amount of stairs to get to the top. 

He was thankful when he reached the door, pressed the buzzer, and had it opened by Kurt straight away, who beamed when he saw him. 

He’d forgotten how  _striking_  he was, tall and pale and elegant as always. He was dressed in casual clothes, a sweatshirt and loose pants; he mustn’t have had any classes at NYADA that day. It was the first time he’d seen him face-to-face since the wedding - Skype didn’t count. 

And then Kurt was throwing his arms around his shoulders and kissing him -  _kissing him_  - and he staggered backwards a little under his weight, allowing himself a tiny moan when Kurt’s tongue traced his bottom lip before taking it into his own mouth and biting down on it slightly.

He could have happily stayed there for quite a while, with Kurt’s hands on his waist and his tongue in his mouth, but unfortunately his body had other ideas. 

He had barely time to register the now very familiar, churning sensation in his stomach before he pulled away, clapping his hand over his mouth and pushing past Kurt to stagger to the sink, before throwing up rather violently into it.

“Blaine!” Kurt cried, rushing over to him and rubbing his back. “Are you alright? Was it the plane?”

Gasping, Blaine straightened up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Kurt didn’t take his hand off his back. 

“Do you mind if I use your bed? I think I need to lie down….." 

"Of course, of course,” Kurt nodded vigorously, his expression tight with concern. “I’ll get your stuff; you go and lie down. I’ll bring you some water." 

Inconvenient as it was, and despite feeling perfectly fine when he left the airport and feeling awful now, he felt a tiny thrill of excitement when he eased himself down onto Kurt’s bed, the scent of his skin on the sheets and on the pillows, comforting him. He pressed his face into one of them, inhaling deeply.  _This_  was a scent he had sorely missed. It even helped his stomach a little, lying there very still and inhaling the smell of  _Kurt,_ breathing deeply to stop the horrible nausea from returning. 

Kurt himself then reappeared, a glass of iced water in one hand and a glass of ginger ale in the other. He put both down on the small nightstand by the bed. 

"For later, if you’re feeling any better.” he said, then folded his arms, looking at him closely. Blaine felt awkward under the intensity of Kurt’s gaze, though he’d looked at him that way many times before. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, then. 

“Yeah. It’s nothing, I promise. I’ll be okay in a while."  _I’m used to it_ , he almost said, but that would have given everything away. 

It was almost laughable that the father of his child was standing right in front of him, and yet he didn’t know. 

Kurt bent down to press a quick kiss to Blaine’s forehead, then swept away, where Blaine could hear him clattering around the kitchen, making coffee.

 _Coffee_. Oh, he missed drinking coffee. He’d switched to green tea because it helped with the sickness, and anyway, he would only be allowed to drink decaf, and he  _hated_ decaf. 

But the smell of the brewing coffee beans was so tempting…..perhaps one cup wouldn’t hurt….

He started to get up, then changed his mind when his stomach rebelled. Perhaps not. No coffee, then. Wincing, he lay back down against the pillows, allowing his hand to trail to his stomach, and he resumed his usual habit of rubbing it gently, the repetitive movement soothing. 

                 _______________________________________

 Santana and Rachel were home. He must have fallen asleep, because the last thing he remembered was the smell of coffee, and now there was a distinctly higher level of noise in the apartment. 

He could hear Kurt shushing the other two. 

"Blaine’s asleep. I think he’s sick. I don’t want to wake him." 

"He’s here already?”

“I  _told_  you he was coming, Rachel. Don’t try to play that card.”

“Fine, just make sure he’s nowhere near me, I don’t want to get whatever germs he’s got." 

Rachel’s blatant obnoxiousness aside, the idea that Kurt still worried about him was good; it meant that things were still okay between them. He lay there for a few more minutes, listening to the flurry of activity beyond the partition/curtain that separated Kurt’s "bedroom” from the rest of the apartment. 

Eventually he decided he better get up - he didn’t even know what time it was - and, realizing he was thirsty, he gratefully sipped the glass of water that Kurt had left there earlier, the ice now melted and leaving trails of condensation on the glass. 

He swung himself up off the bed, slowly, testing his ability to stand without getting dizzy or lightheaded; he seemed to be over it.  _Good. I don’t want to have to keep lying about it to the others, or they’ll figure out something’s up_. 

He was greeted by the three of them when he wandered into the kitchen. Well, “greeted” was a loose term; Santana acknowledged him with a curve of her lips, Rachel said hi but kept her distance. It was only Kurt who really showed any enthusiasm at him being there, and it made something warm and thrilling flare up inside him. 

“Coffee?” Kurt held out the coffee pot. 

“Please."  _To hell with decaf._ One cup wouldn’t hurt him. He accepted the mug Kurt offered him gratefully, relishing the aromatic smell and slightly bitter taste. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d do if further along the line the baby decided he couldn’t drink coffee anymore. 

Kurt poured out mugs for Rachel and Santana and the four of them sat at the table in the kitchen. Blaine could feel Santana’s eyes boring into him, and he had half a mind to ask her whether she wanted something. They’d always had an uneasy friendship.

"Well, I’m going to meet Brody. We’re going to dinner tonight.” Rachel stood up from the table suddenly, dumping her mug in the sink with a ridiculous smile on her face. 

“I thought you weren’t speaking to him.” Kurt said. 

“We’re working things out.” she replied primly. “I’m just going to change and I’ll be out.”

She went into her part of the apartment, swinging the curtain shut behind her. Blaine watched her silhouette as she pulled open a tall closet and examined its contents. 

“It’s the evening already?” he asked, rubbing his temples and yawning suddenly. “I didn’t realize I’d been asleep for that long.”

“It’s almost five. You’ve been out for quite a while.” Kurt said. “You _are_  feeling better, though?” There was that concerned expression again. He nodded in the affirmative. 

“Good. Because I want to take you out tonight, there’s something I want to show you." 

Blaine brightened at that.  _Was this a date?_  "Really?”

“Of course.” Kurt said simply, as if that was the end of the matter. He smiled, and Blaine couldn’t help but smile back. 

He swept past him, dropping a sudden and unexpected kiss to his cheek as he went. 

“I’m going to get ready. Wear something nice.”

Maybe it  _wouldn’t_  be so awkward telling Kurt after all. 

_______________________________

Blaine sat cross-legged on the couch, massaging his aching hips as he waited for Kurt to come out of the bathroom.

He and Kurt were going out - where, Blaine didn’t know, as Kurt refused to tell him - and he was both excited and nervous. Last time they’d “gone out”, it hadn’t ended particularly well. But he figured they wouldn’t be going to Callbacks this time. 

At least, he hoped they wouldn’t be. There were too many bad memories there.

 

He listened happily to the sounds of Kurt moving around in the bathroom, running the tap to brush his teeth and the telltale sound of hairspray and cologne being sprayed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped the smell of it wouldn’t make him sick. He couldn’t afford to have any mishaps tonight, not when it was so important - not that Kurt knew, yet, or had any idea just how important it would be. 

To say that Blaine was nervous about what might happen was an understatement. Nervous, afraid, anxious, apprehensive; all of those adjectives would be adequate to describe how he was feeling. He had absolutely no idea, given the new status of their relationship, - was it even a relationship anymore? - how Kurt would react. What he would say, if he said anything at all. What he would do.

Would he throw him out? Demand that he leave and go back to Lima immediately? Refuse to speak to him ever again?

That last option, it was more than Blaine was sure he could handle. The first few months after the initial break-up had been hell, so crippled with guilt and shame he could hardly breathe. He had no idea what he would do if Kurt rejected him now, a second time, and he was left alone again.

He only hoped that Kurt still cared about him enough not to do that. He had been adamant that they were “just friends”, but deep down Blaine knew that that wasn’t the case. 

The bathroom door opened and Kurt came out with a flourish and a bright smile on his face, trailing a scent of soap and lotion and hairspray that drifted out from the open door. 

“Ready?" 

"Always.” He got up from the sofa, wincing at the ache in his hips at the movement, and went for his coat. 

It was a little tight around his middle when he buttoned it. 

He had no time to dwell on it, however, because Kurt was at his side, still smiling and offering Blaine his arm, which he took gratefully, relishing the feeling of Kurt’s warm body pressed to his side. 

It was cold out, and he shivered a little in the frigid New York air; Kurt pulled his scarf tighter around his throat and Blaine wished he’d thought to wear one himself. 

“So where  _are_  we going….?” he asked, as Kurt turned them round a corner and down a dark side-street with clusters of busy restaurants either side, warm orange and yellow light spilling from their doors and windows. 

“I told you.” Kurt said. “It’s a surprise." 

"Can I have a hint, at least?”

“No!" 

He turned them round another corner. They were by a taxi rank, and a long line of bright yellow cabs stood in the light from a streetlamp. 

Blaine raised his eyebrows. 

"It’s a  _surprise_.” Kurt repeated. “I’m not telling you, so stop looking at me like that.”

Kurt motioned to one of the cabs and the driver inside cocked his head to let them know they could climb in. He handed the driver a slip of paper through the gap in the partition between the front and back seats. Blaine resisted the urge to roll his eyes; his curiosity was burning within him. Where  _was_  Kurt taking him? 

And then he didn’t really have much room in his mind to think about it, because as soon as the cab pulled out into the road, the nausea returned, making him grip the strap around his waist tightly in a sweaty palm. 

 _Breathe through it, Blaine. Now is not the time to get sick,_ he told himself furiously, breathing in through his nose and keeping his mouth firmly shut. Who knew that morning sickness also meant  _motion_  sickness? He certainly hadn’t. He’d driven to school easily enough the last few days, why should it be any different now?

“You okay?” he heard Kurt ask from his position on his right, and he felt him squeeze his free hand in his own. “We’re nearly there, anyway. You look like you need some air.”

The cab pulled up outside a small, inviting-looking diner - and opposite, spread out in front of them and glittering under floodlights, was Central Park.

“Central Park?”

Kurt raised an eyebrow as he paid the cab driver and pushed open the door. “I told you it was a surprise.”

Blaine allowed himself to be dragged from the cab and into the warmth of the diner, where a jukebox was playing old 80s hits underneath the noisy hubbub of the diner. 

“They do great frozen yogurt here, d'you want some?" 

Blaine felt his mouth water at the prospect; frozen yogurt, apparently, was what his body was telling him it needed right now. Well, not his body so much as the baby. Were cravings supposed to start this early?

It didn’t really matter because frozen yogurt sounded really, really good right now. 

"I’d love some." 

He watched Kurt as he stood in line, the long lines of his legs and the way his shirt clung to his chest and back in a way that made Blaine flare with jealousy, because he knew that other men would be looking at Kurt on a daily basis. He knew it wasn’t really fair, that he didn’t lay claim to feeling that way now, but he couldn’t help it. Kurt really didn’t give himself enough credit. 

He came back clutching two pots of frozen yogurt and smiling hugely, and Blaine had to stop himself from salivating. He was suddenly so hungry he thought he might pass out if he didn’t eat something  _now_. 

They sat at a small corner booth, and Blaine relished the comfort of the soft padded leather on his aching hips and lower back, which had just started to flare up in those last few moments from standing just that little bit too long. 

They ate in silence for a while. Blaine watched Kurt whilst Kurt watched everyone else around them with a passive curiosity, licking the yogurt off the spoon with little licks and licking his lips every now and then, savouring every last drop. 

Four months ago, he would have longed to be able to do this with Kurt, just hang out, be together, be comfortable with one another without having to speak. Now he was just happy he had the option of doing this with him, with or without the unexplained  _physical_  benefits. 

Not that he was complaining about those. 

After a while, Kurt spoke. 

"What are you staring at?”

“Nothing.” Blaine said shyly. “Just you.”

He could have sworn he saw Kurt’s cheeks turn a little pink, but he might have imagined it; he didn’t, however, imagine the way his lips turned up at the corners in a semi-smile. 

“I’ve missed this.” Kurt said. “I’ve missed spending time with you. I know we were together at the wedding, but….”

“It wasn’t the same?” Blaine suggested.

“It wasn’t the same.” Kurt agreed, looking down at his almost-empty pot of yogurt. 

“I understand.” Blaine said softly.

And he did, at least, he thought he did. He could understand how spending time together this way was much more meaningful; not that anything they’d done at the wedding hadn’t been. 

Kurt cocked his head. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Why do I keep doing what?”

“You keep touching your stomach and rubbing it. You’re not in pain, are you?”

“Oh.” Blaine said. He hadn’t even realized he’d been doing it. “No, I’m not. It’s just a habit, I guess.”

“Okay.” Kurt went back to his yogurt, scraping the bottom of the pot loudly.

Blaine had finished his five minutes ago and was now absently drawing patterns on the base of the pot with the handle of his spoon. 

              ________________________________________

After they left the diner, they headed for Central Park hand in hand, the cold air biting at their faces and whipping their hair. Blaine envied Kurt’s scarf and wished he’d thought to bring gloves; the tips of his fingers were icy.

“I have something I need to tell you." 

He wasn’t sure what made him say it; he was only half-aware of the words passing by his lips. It was better to get it over with, now that they were pleasantly full from frozen yogurt and enjoying each other’s company. 

Kurt froze. Blaine instantly knew what he was thinking of, and as if he had been transported to that very moment, he could see it in his mind’s eye; another park, another time, another confession. It had been cold then, too. 

"It’s - it’s not bad!” Blaine said quickly, squeezing Kurt’s hand. “ I mean, I hope it’s not. I hope you won’t think it is." 

"Just tell me.” Kurt’s voice was barely above a whisper, and he hated that after what had happened between them, he was still so afraid of what Blaine might tell him.

“I’m pregnant, Kurt.”

Time seemed to stop, and Kurt stared at him, eyes round in shock and disbelief - and something else, something that Blaine couldn’t pinpoint. 

“I’m five weeks along,” Blaine babbled, “it happened at the wedding. I’ve been for a sonogram and everything’s fine, though I’ve had pretty bad morning sickness, and I think I’ve started gaining weight already-” he laughed nervously - “and Sam knows, but nobody else does, except you now, and I just - I really wanted to tell you but I want you to know that if this is too much for you, if you can’t do this, you don’t have to, I don’t expect you to feel obligated because I know we’re not together and -  _please, say something Kurt, please.”_

“I don’t know what to say.” Kurt choked. “I don’t - Blaine, what are we going to do?” His voice rose an octave, high-pitched and panicky. “I - babies are really expensive, and I’m in  _college,_ and you’re in  _high school_ , and -" 

"We?” Blaine asked, incredulous. “Did you - did you say we?" 

"Well,” Kurt swallowed, “yes.”

“I don’t want to put pressure on you-” Blaine began, but Kurt cut him off.

“You’re not putting pressure on me-”

“I don’t want you to feel you have any responsibility towards-” he started again, but once more Kurt stopped him.

“I can tell you’re scared but we’re in this together-”

“I can’t ask you to do anything for me, it would be wrong-” he insisted, but Kurt wouldn’t listen. 

“And I promise you I will do whatever you need me to-”

“Kurt, I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do-”

“because I love you, and we’re -  _Blaine, we’re having a baby together_  - and I know it’s not ideal right now, but we’ll figure something out, and I -” Kurt suddenly stopped speaking, his mouth working but no sound coming out.

“What?” Blaine asked. 

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“No, Blaine, I really,  _really_  love you." 

Then, Blaine understood perfectly what Kurt was saying. He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, but it wasn’t enough; a single tear made its way down his cheek, and he huffed and sniffed loudly, wiping away with the sleeve of his coat and hoping that Kurt hadn’t noticed.

But he had. 

"I know it’s not the best situation to be in,” Kurt began slowly, “but I’m prepared to make it work. If you are." 

"That’s more than I expected you to say.” Blaine sniffed. “And I’m prepared to make it work, too.”

“You said only Sam knows?”

“Yeah, he’s the only one I told. He actually went with me for my first sonogram appointment." 

"I’ll have to send him a thank you card." 

And then Kurt was throwing his arms around Blaine’s neck and pressing his face into his shoulder, barely concealing his smile. 

"So - so we’ll be okay?”

“We’ll be okay. I promise.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

To: Kurt (8:09am)

_How much of a crime would it be if I wore sweats to school today?_

To: Blaine (8:10am)

_Why are you even considering wearing sweats?_

To: Kurt (8:11am)

_My favourite pair of pants doesn’t fit me anymore. The zipper won’t budge._

To: Kurt (8:12am)

_I’m getting fat._

To: Blaine (8:14am)

_I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you? And anyway, you’re not fat, you’re pregnant. There’s a very big difference. You’ll look good whatever you wear._

To: Kurt (8:15am)

_Thanks, but I won’t. Turning up to school in work out clothes is social suicide, but they’re the only thing that fits right now and I don’t have time shop for new pairs of pants._

To: Blaine (8:16am)

_Then wear the sweats, and if anyone asks, tell them you have gym this afternoon and didn’t want to have to change._

To: Kurt (8:17am)

_Okay. I’ll call you later._

_  
_———————————————————————

Since he’d told Kurt about the baby, he’d felt as though a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Kurt himself had taken to impending fatherhood a lot better than Blaine had expected him to, and had taken to calling him every morning and evening to see if he was okay and if he needed anything,  _anything at all_ , and when he was coming to visit next, or when his next appointment with the doctor was, or if he was still getting morning sickness. 

(He was. Often. And it was hell.)

As he progressed into his tenth week, and had therefore been pregnant for more than two months now, he started to feel a lot better and a lot more positive about it all. It helped that Sam was always at his side in an instant if he needed him to be, covering for him when he showed up to class late because he’d been throwing up in the bathroom and making excuses for him when he sat out of group numbers in Glee because he felt dizzy. 

Sam, in other words, was his life saver. 

Which was why Sam was the one attempting to comfort Blaine after school, after a tense Glee practice in which Kitty had made a few choice comments about his wearing sweatpants to school and had to be told to shut up by both Ryder and Marley, who had thankfully come to his aid. 

But of course, they didn’t know  _why_  he had been wearing them in the first place, and if he was really honest with himself, Kitty’s comments had hurt more than he would have liked. 

 _"_ Sorry for being miserable. It’s these stupid hormones, it said online that I’d get like this.“

"No problem, dude.” Sam popped a blue M & M into his mouth and idly turned a page of his History textbook. “I get it. I remember my mom being pregnant with Stacy and Stevie. Nightmare. My dad had to keep calming her down all the time ‘cause she’d just lose it.”

“Not really helping, Sam.”

“Sorry.” He ate another M & M, a yellow one. “I don’t really know about this stuff except from Health class, and that was for chicks, y'know? It’s probably different for guys.”

“It's  _definitely_  different for guys. I’m pretty sure girls don’t throw up as much as I have in the last two months.”

“Gross.”

They settled into a comfortable silence. Sam flipped some more pages of his textbook and Blaine tried to refocus his concentration on the math problem in front of him. 

“Hey, what are you gonna do about Regionals?” Sam asked then. 

It was a question he’d thought a lot about. The competition was in three weeks, and by then he’d be into his second trimester. He still wasn’t 100% sure if he was going to compete or not, as a lot of the stuff he’d found online about male pregnancy emphasized the higher risk for men than in women. He had been planning to ask Dr. Marshall for her opinion on the matter at his twelve-week sonogram, but would that be leaving it too late?

If he bailed on the New Directions a week before the competition, it’d give Kitty even more ammunition against him and he was sure she hated him anyway. 

“I don’t know yet.” Blaine said, putting his math book aside and leaning back against the pillows on his bed. “I don’t want to bail on the club, but if it’s too much of a risk……”

“Maybe you should ask Kurt. He’d know what to do." 

"He’d probably tell me to do whatever I thought was best.” Blaine allowed himself a smile and folded his hands over his stomach. “But that doesn’t really help in this situation, because does it mean what’s best for me, or what’s best for the Glee club?”

“I’m not sure you should be asking  _me_  that.” Sam replied. He snapped his book shut and frowned down at it. “Yeah, I’m gonna need your help with this stuff. I don’t understand anything about the American constitution except for the fact that it sucks.”

                          _______________________________

“-and Rachel and Santana are driving me  _crazy_ , but at least Rachel and Brody aren’t having wild sex right next to my partition anymore so I don’t have to use my white noise machine to drown out the horrible sounds of them copulating." 

"So she really broke up with him?”

“Yeah, after I  _told_  her several times that he was no good for her.” Kurt said, and he barely concealed the relief in his voice. “Thank God." 

"You don’t believe in God.” Blaine pointed out.

“If I did, I’d thank him for getting rid of Brody Weston from my life, and for protecting my vintage flea market chairs from being molested any further  by his bare ass.”

“I’m sure he wasn't  _that_  bad.” Blaine reasoned. He’d never really  _met_  Brody properly so he couldn’t really form an opinion. 

“Oh, yes he was! He sat on my vintage flea market chairs, Blaine.  _Vintage_. You know how I feel about vintage furniture.” Kurt insisted. 

“Indeed I do.” He paused. “I wanted to ask you something…..”

“Oh?”

“Regionals is in three weeks, and I’m not sure if I should agree to compete. It might be too risky for me right now to be doing high-energy choreography.” he explained. “I was going to wait and ask Dr. Marshall about it - she’s the doctor I saw for my first sonogram - but Sam said I should ask you.”

“Speaking from the point of view of a person who would very much like you to be in perfect condition for the next seven months without getting injured or sick since you are carrying my child, I would have to say that I think you should pull out. It’s not worth risking something going wrong just for a competition, and this is coming from  _me_ , who will stop at nothing to win even if it kills me.” Kurt said. 

“I actually agree with you. The last thing the New Directions needs right now is another Marley - not that I’m insinuating anything bad about Marley, it was Kitty’s fault really." 

Kurt hummed in approval, and the sound made a fluttering feeling rise in his stomach. 

"When  _is_  your next sonogram?” Kurt asked, his voice painfully casual.  _Too_  casual. 

“Um, a week before Regionals. It’s my twelve-week sonogram, so…..yeah, the week before Regionals.”

Kurt paused before replying, but Blaine had the feeling that what he said wasn’t what he’d planned to say. 

“But how are you paying for them? They’re not cheap, and when Quinn was pregnant she had a really hard time keeping up with medical costs-”

Blaine cut him off. “I’ve been - I’ve been using the money I’d saved up. For New York. But since I’m not going there anymore, I figured I’d use the money for me and the baby." 

"You’re using your New York fund to pay for this?” Kurt sounded horrified - no,  _scandalized_  - that he was doing such a thing. “I can’t let you do that, Blaine.”

“What choice do I have? I can’t tell my parents or ask them for any money. And if I’m not going to use it, what’s the harm?”

“Because you shouldn’t have to compromise your future just because you’re not -  _we’re_  not - in an ideal situation right now!" 

"I've  _already_  compromised it, Kurt. There’s not much more damage I could do." 

Silence. 

"Then let me help.” Kurt said immediately after a short pause. “Let me help you with money. I know it’s not a lot and I’ll look for a better job but I am  _not_  going to let you do all of this by yourself. I know that we’re still working things out and I know that we’re close to getting there, but  _please_  don’t fight me on this. It’s my child, too.”

“Okay.” Blaine tried hard to swallow down the lump that had risen in his throat, constricting his chest painfully. “Okay.”

It was more than he could ever have imagined receiving - it was far too much - but if Kurt wanted to do it, who was he to stop him?

“And call me with the date of your sonogram.” Kurt added. “I want to - I want to go with y-you." 

"Okay.”

It was all he could say. 

“And - and I love you.” Kurt said. 

“I love you, too." 

"Bye.”

“Bye.”

He  _could_  do this. He could totally do this. And he knew that Kurt would stay with him, every step of the way. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

“Mr Schue, I’d like to say something before we start.”

All heads turned in Blaine’s direction when he spoke up from his seat at the back of the choir room.

He swallowed hard, avoiding the scornful gaze of Kitty as she took in his appearance; a loose sweater, and a pair of his most comfortable sweatpants, because he was pretty sure he’d gained about three extra pounds in two days and he felt it in the snug fit of the waistband. It was only sheer luck that they were elasticated.

“Sure, Blaine.”

 

Slowly, as though treading through water, he went to the front of the room and faced his fellow Glee club members. Sam gave him a thumbs up when he caught his eye, but this didn’t really help. 

“I won’t be competing with you guys at Regionals. I’ve had to pull out because of personal reasons.” he said, wringing his hands in front of him nervously. 

“Are you  _freaking_  serious?” Kitty burst out from somewhere over in the corner. “We have  _no_  chance of winning unless  _you_  sing a solo.”

“Leave it, Kitty.” Jake snapped. “Give the guy a break.”

“I’ll do the solo instead.” Ryder offered.

“Are you sure about this, Blaine?” Mr Schue asked, confusion and apprehension on his face. 

Blaine nodded. “It’s something I’m going to have to do. I’m sorry and everything, but I’ll still be there to cheer you on.”

“Well, then, it’s decided. Ryder, since you so kindly offered, you’ll take his solo.”

And that was that. 

                        ____________________________________

His mom was in the kitchen when he got home.

And unfortunately for him, she was busy cooking something in a large pan on the stove, the smell of which on the air was antagonizing his already volatile stomach, still queasy from lunchtime. 

He’d have to make an excuse to go up to his room and stay there until it went away.

“You alright?" 

It took a moment for him to register that his mom had spoken; she was looking at him curiously. Was his discomfort showing on his face?”

“Um, yeah.” he said quickly. “I just…need to go to my room. Homework. Lots of homework.”

“Well, dinner’s at seven." 

"Great.”

He barely had time to throw his schoolbag onto the bed before he bolted into the bathroom across the hall, gagging, and collapsed with a thud that jarred his kneecaps in front of the toilet. 

Blaine hated this, the horrible feeling that seemed to clamp on his insides and choke his throat as he coughed and heaved, what little there was in his stomach forcing itself up his burning throat. 

He wished Kurt was here, to rub his back and shoulders and make him feel better, but since he wasn’t, he’d have to sit there on the cool floor of the bathroom and wait it out. 

He sat back on his knees, breathing hard. Maybe there was some green tea left in the kitchen that he could drink to help quell the intense nausea. 

If not, perhaps it would be better if he went to lie down and sleep for a while until it eased. Quadratic equations and an essay on the representation of women in  _Hamlet_ could wait.  _  
_

At least, it could wait a while longer.

The constant nausea was a reminder of exactly the situation he was in, the situation that he had got himself into, a reminder of the fact that eventually, he was going to have to tell the rest of his friends, and his parents - especially since he wouldn’t be going to college anymore - and probably Miss Pillsbury, too, and the school nurse. 

But in a little over a month, he’d be graduating from William McKinley High School forever, and that was a blessing in itself. From the calendar he made for himself, he’d be eighteen weeks pregnant when he graduated. That was four and a half  _months_. He’d be a lot bigger then, his stomach round and pronounced and  _obvious_ _,_ and he’d be lying if he said that the thought didn’t scare him a little.

 But he had Kurt, now. Kurt, who had promised to him that he would stay by him, whatever happened, now that  _both_  their lives were going to change. 

And he had Sam, too, at McKinley. But he couldn’t expect him to cover for him forever, he wouldn’t place that burden on him. 

Gingerly, he got up from the floor, using the rim of the toilet to support himself. The worst had abated; but he didn’t want to take any risks. He suddenly also felt very tired, his body screaming for sleep. 

Slouching back into his bedroom, he collapsed on top of the bed fully clothed, feeling relief in his back from the soft comfort of the duvet and mattress beneath his body. He was asleep almost immediately. 

                  _____________________________________

Kurt was thinking about Blaine again, cellphone in his hand and finger hovering over  _Call._

Finding out that he was going to be a father had awakened something in him, a sort of a realization, that he had been holding off for a long time for fear of - well, that was just it. Fear.

He’d been afraid of telling Blaine what he really wanted because he was still afraid that something bad would happen again, only this time, he wasn’t sure whether he still believed that. Not anymore.

It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, he was worried that rushing into things now, when they were facing something so much more potent that just a break-up, might ruin their chances forever. On the other, if he  _didn’t_ act, if he continued to pull back from Blaine, he might miss his chance completely. 

Either way, he risked losing him for the second time. 

And he just didn’t think he could handle going through that again. 

Taking a deep breath, he pressed  _Call_. It rang once, twice, three times. There was a scuffle and a thud, and then a sleepy voice came over the end of the line. 

“Kurt?”

“Hi.” He would have been embarrassed about how  _happy_  he sounded, how excited his voice was to his own ears, but at that point it didn’t matter. “Did you get the date of your sonogram?”

“Oh, yeah.” Blaine yawned. “It’s - let me just check - it’s April 27th. It’s a Tuesday. Regionals is the week after that.”

“Then it’s a date.”

“What’s a date?” The innocence in Blaine’s voice made Kurt’s heart swell in his chest. 

“I thought I told you. I’m coming with you to your next sonogram.” Kurt said. “I want to see my baby.”

“ _Our_  baby.” Blaine mumbled, perhaps thinking that Kurt couldn’t hear him, but he did.

“Yeah. Our baby."  _Wow, that sounds weird._

"Then it’s a date." 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

“….so my flight gets in at five tomorrow night, so if you want to hang out or something, maybe watch a movie, I’ll ask my dad if you can - Blaine? Blaine, are you listening to me?”

Blaine’s eyes flew open from where they’d been fluttering half-closed for the past five minutes as he registered the urgency in Kurt’s voice. He was completely exhausted. 

“Um, yeah, yeah I am, sorry.” He yawned, impossibly loudly. “I’m just s-so ti-ired lately. I must have blanked out for minute.”

“I can hang up if you want to get some sleep.” Kurt offered. 

“No, no! It’s fine. Keep talking." 

Kurt hummed, a noise of disapproval of concern. 

"Really, Kurt, I’m fine. It’s just something I’ll have to get used to.”

 

“You know I can see right through you, don’t you?" 

Blaine laughed. "Yes.” A pause. “Seriously, Kurt, it’s nothing to worry about. it’s just a pregnant thing.”

“Speaking of pregnant things…..” Kurt trailed off, and Blaine was unable to see the teasing expression on his face through the phone line that connected them. “Do you want me to pick you up before your appointment, or do you want to come over first?”

“I think it’ll look less suspicious if you come pick me up, to the others I mean. I’ll ask Sam to cover for me because I’ll have to miss last period and I’ll be late for Glee.”

“Then it’s a date.”

                    _____________________________________

“So what excuse did you give Rachel and Santana?" 

The question brings Kurt up short, and for a moment his fingers flex around the steering wheel has he drives, the knuckles white from gripping it so hard with nerves. 

"You know,” Blaine elaborated, “for coming here. Did you tell them you were seeing me?”

“Yes and no.” Kurt said. “I said that I was visiting Dad and Carole, which I  _am_ , so that part wasn’t a lie -”

“And?”

“Yes.” Kurt said, and smiled. “I told them that I might be dropping by to see you while I was here." 

"Good.” Blaine looked at his lap, where his hands were folded neatly. From this angle, he could see the weight he’d gained around his stomach and waist. It wasn’t much, but he could see it, and the thought both thrilled and worried him. What if someone else noticed, and realized what was going on?

“Nervous?” Kurt must have noticed the worrisome expression on his face. 

“Not really. I’ve been here before, remember?" 

"Well, the GPS says we’re nearly there.” Kurt pointed to the small screen on the dashboard. “Is this the place?” he asked, when the familiar white building that hid Dr. Marshall’s clinic from overly-curious eyes came into view. 

“Yeah, this is it. I know it looks weird, but it has to be kept…private." 

Kurt pulled up just behind the building, by the side entrance that Blaine and Sam had used before, and the silence in the wake of the engine cutting was deafening.

What if this was a huge mistake? What if Kurt freaked out? What if he changed his mind?

"Hey,” Kurt said softly, reaching across to take Blaine’s hand in his. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

It was as if he’d read his mind, and Blaine was reminded of exactly how well Kurt knew him. 

“Thank you." 

Kurt squeezed his fingers gently. "C'mon." 

They walked together like that, hand in hand, up to the door of the clinic and Blaine pushed it open with his free hand. Again, the waiting area was deserted, save for the receptionist at the desk.

He gave his name as before, then went to sit down next to Kurt in one of the plastic chairs against the right wall of the room. Directly in his line of vision was a poster advertising the warning signs of abnormalities in male pregnancy. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kurt jiggling his foot up and down nervously, and he realized that this was huge for him, too. Blaine had had months to come to terms with it. Kurt had had weeks. 

Dr. Marshall came out of her examination room and called his name. 

The room was now familiar to him; the sterile white walls, the thin mattress of the bed laid out before the large, bulky sonogram machine. 

He didn’t miss the anxious expression on Kurt’s face, as if he were expecting to be told bad news at any moment, as he went to sit down on the edge of the bed, swinging his legs distractedly. 

"Don’t look so  _nervous_ , Kurt. It’s just a routine sonogram.”

“For  _you,"_ Kurt numbled, smoothing his hands over his thighs in a way that told Blaine he was agitated. "I’ve never done this before." 

"I know. I don’t mind that you’re scared.”

“I’m not scared.” Kurt said quickly, and then Dr. Marshall bustled back in, pulling on a pair of latex gloves with a reverberating  _snap_ that made Blaine jump.

“How are things?” she directed this question to him. “Is the nausea any better?”

“Not really.” He might as well be honest. “It’s not any worse, but it’s been pretty bad regardless.”

“Tiredness?" 

Blaine caught Kurt’s eye and smiled. "Yeah.”

“Well, that’s part and parcel of the whole experience, unfortunately.” Dr. Marshall said brightly. “You’ll probably start showing soon, too, since you’re about to go into your second trimester.” She patted the bed. “Shall we get started?”

He lay down on the bed and lifted his sweater up, goosebumps erupting over the soft skin of his stomach in the cool air of the examination room. Gasping when the cold shock of the gel hit him, had to remind himself to breathe when Dr. Marshall moved the wand around and the black-and-white image he had seen only once before came onto the previously blank screen of the monitor. 

Kurt hadn’t spoken since Dr. Marshall had entered the room, but Blaine heard him gasp minutely now from where he sat in a chair in a corner of the room. 

“Everything seems to be in order.” she said. “A little on the small side for a twelve-week fetus, but no doubt that will change soon, so it’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s not?” It was Kurt who had asked the question.

“It sometimes happens due to extreme morning sickness, because the baby isn’t absorbing the nutrients it needs from the food the mother - or in this case, the father - eats." 

"C'mover here, Kurt.” Blaine called softly. “I want you to see this.”

Slowly, Kurt crossed the room to where Blaine lay, Dr. Marshall still holding the wand over his stomach so that the picture was on the screen. The picture of their  _baby_.

He blinked several times, as if he wasn’t exactly sure of what he was seeing, but that wasn’t true; he was  _completely_  sure. Eyes fixed on the moving image on the screen, he reached for Blaine’s hand shakily, and was met with his strong, sure grasp, warm and comforting, just the way it always had been.

And it hurt in the worst possible way, because there would always be that nagging voice in the back of his mind, telling him not to trust Blaine again, to forget about him, to push him from his heart and thoughts.

But he wasn’t sure he wanted to do that anymore. 

The wiggling, undulating monochrome image on the screen had decided that for him. 

And no, it wasn't  _just_  because they were having a baby together, though that was certainly the main catalyst for what he was feeling right now. It was something else, something he couldn’t put his finger on.

What was it that Tina had said after the wedding?  _I saw two soulmates rediscovering each other_. At the time, he’d pushed it from his mind, ignoring her observation with a hasty insistence that he and Blaine were “just friends”. It was something he’d said a lot that night, the night - the revelation came to him now - that this very child whose image he was watching had been conceived. 

Blaine’s voice drew him from his thoughts.

“Kurt?”

“What, sorry? I was distracted." 

"D'you want a photo to take back to New York with you?”

                  _______________________________________

Blaine knew something was up as he approached the choir room and heard raised voices, as if someone inside was arguing. 

Not that it would be the first time that an argument had broken out between the members of the New Directions. 

As he drew nearer, he recognized the arguing voices as being male and female, but he couldn’t narrow it down to individual people due to their being muffled by the walls and the door. 

He only hoped he could stay out of it long enough that nobody would ask his opinion about it.

He was much too content, much too happy, after parting ways with Kurt  to be embroiled in any argument the Glee club was having. 

As he reached the door, the voices were louder and much more distinguishable. He looked through the small window in the door out of curiosity more than anything, before going inside. 

It was Sam and Kitty, inches apart, Kitty standing on the tips of her toes to be on the same level as him. She was brandishing something Blaine couldn’t see high in the air, and Sam seemed to be angry with her. 

Then Kitty moved, and he could see that she was holding a black-and-white photograph in front of Sam’s face, baiting him with it. 

It looked a lot like -  _no._

_No, she can’t have._

It had been in his locker all day, safely hidden behind an old poster for  _West Side Story_  from last year that he hadn’t taken out yet and his ticket for the Sadie Hawkins dance he’d gone to with Tina months ago. 

But this was Kitty, and he felt nothing except an icy dread flooding his body.

Mechanically, he grasped the handle of the door and pushed it open, slowly, not wanting to find out what was on the other side - to see if his fear, his dread, was justified. 

“Give it back, Kitty!” Sam almost shouted, looking the most angry that Blaine could remember seeing him. 

“Make me.” Kitty stepped back from him, a wicked, smug smile on her catlike face. “It’s sweet, the way you would be enough of a gentleman to protect whichever Wiliam McKinley slut this belongs to." 

The word stung like a slap, though of course she couldn’t possibly know, nor expect, that it was him to whom she was referring. The feeling of dread was coiling in his stomach, trapping him in the doorway - nobody seemed to have noticed he was even there. 

"Give it  _back_!" 

Kitty smirked. "No.”

“Kitty, seriously - you have no idea what you’re doing. Give it back." 

He would have to thank Sam for coming to his aid later, but for now he could only stare rigidly and hope that Kitty would back down. 

"What are you going to do about it, dork?” she taunted. “Once I find out who this pretty picture belongs to, it’ll be hot news, and you won’t be able to stop the slut from running out of here crying like a baby.”

“Don't  _call_  Blaine that!”

Time seemed to slow down, and then stop completely. 

Kitty paused mid-retort, jaw slack, looking like a goldfish. Blaine would  have thought it was funny if what had just happened had not happened.

Sam had just told Kitty - told  _everyone_  - that he was pregnant. 

Sam turned, spotted Blaine in the doorway, and froze. His jaw worked, but no words came out. 

“Don’t." 

It was the only word Blaine managed to get out, before he turned on his heels and walked away, slamming the choir room door shut behind him. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

_From: Sam (1:14pm)_

_I’m sorry._

_From: Sam (3:12pm)_

_I didn’t mean to, alright? It just slipped out._

_From: Sam (5:27pm)_

_Are you just gonna ignore me?_

There were dozens more like these, filling up the inbox on his cellphone. He’d had every intention of deleting them all. 

Sam had nothing to say that he could possibly want to hear. 

 

It felt like a punch to the gut, adding to the already present, almost constant nausea he was already feeling. 

Sam had told everyone. About him. He’d betrayed his trust.

He was supposed to be his  _friend_.

Suddenly restless, Blaine got up off his bed, pacing around the room. He just felt so  _angry_.

But what could he do? His secret was out. Everyone knew. They had probably talked about him in Glee club after he left, whispering to each other and debating exactly  _how_  he could’ve gotten pregnant in the first place since he wasn’t a girl. 

And then there was Kitty’s threat, to tell the whole school. It wouldn’t be just the Glee club, but  _everyone_. 

This was private, something between him and Kurt, and him and Kurt only. Yes, he’d told Sam; but only because he’d been concerned and he’d trusted him, because they were close. But apart from that, it was solely something for him and Kurt to deal with. 

But that wasn’t going to happen now, was it?

It was Tuesday. If Kitty kept to her word, when he walked into school tomorrow morning, everyone would know. In a school like McKinley, news traveled fast, the good and the bad. 

He didn’t know if he’d be able to stand the judgmental stares and whispers, the eyes following him down the halls. 

Kitty might as well have stuck a huge target board on his back and armed the students of McKinley with darts, because that’s what it was going to feel like. 

He sat back down on the bed, crossing his legs under him and wincing at the pain in his hips at the movement. The skin there felt tight, stretched across his hipbones. From what he’d read on some sites he’d been looking at, it meant that his hips were widening to accommodate what would eventually be a fully-grown, full-term baby, ready to be born. 

Blaine stared at his bare feet. Was it his imagination, or were his ankles starting to swell, too? Soon he’d have to stop wearing his beloved dress shoes and invest in a comfortable pair of sneakers. 

Following the line of his body, he moved his gaze higher, up his legs to his thighs, where the material of his pants was already stretched pretty tight, especially when he sat like this, up to his hips, which constantly ached no matter how he sat, to his stomach and expanding waistline. 

And stopped.

_Well, that’s new,_ he thought, looking down at the small but distinct swell of his stomach where it pushed out against his sweater. It might have been the way he was sitting, hunched up with anxiety, but he swore it wasn’t there a few days ago.

He quickly got up off the bed and went into his parents’ bedroom, where there was a full-length mirror that he could use. 

Standing in front of it, suddenly very nervous, he pulled up the hem of his sweater and looked down, as if he was afraid of what he might see. 

Except he hadn’t imagined it at all. It was right there, the almost-invisible rise of his stomach that could easily just be a little extra weight, but he knew and recognized it for what it was. 

He was starting to show. 

Pretty soon, he’d have a visible baby bump. 

His breath came out slow and unsteady as he stared at himself in the mirror, at the bare expanse of his stomach that was soft and rounding out, stretching the skin. If he looked closely, he could see the beginnings of very thin stretch marks, barely visible unless he really squinted.

He was  _definitely_  starting to show. 

He had to tell Kurt.

It sucked that he lived so far away, that he was unable to be here when the important things happened. Kurt had said that much himself, how much he hated that Blaine was here, alone, in Ohio whilst he himself was in New York, so far away from everything. Especially now, when he was going to miss all the important things. 

They hadn’t even discussed what was going to happen when the baby eventually arrived yet. 

He padded back into his room, the anger he had felt previously drained from his body at his little (or perhaps not so little) discovery. 

Kurt picked up on the first ring. 

“Hi.” He sounded breathless. Perhaps he’d just finished his evening workout - and wow, Blaine  _totally_  didn’t need that image in his head right now, there were other more serious things to discuss.

“I’m showing, Kurt.” A pause. “I just - I just found out like a minute ago, I’m definitely starting to show.”

“ _Really?_ ” Kurt’s gasp was music to Blaine’s ears. “Like,  _really_?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure, yeah.” And then he was laughing, he had no idea why but he was, and Kurt laughed along with him, a high, breathless laugh that he only did when he was truly happy.

Which meant that he must be. Happy. 

“I wish I was there to see it.” Kurt swallowed audibly. “I hate missing so much when you’re there and I’m here." 

"I’ll come up to New York again.” Blaine said quickly. “Next weekend is Regionals and - well, I don’t think I’m going anymore, so I can come to New York and see you, I’ll stay the whole weekend if you want me to.”

“I think I’d like that.” Kurt said softly. “But wait - why aren’t you going to Regionals anymore? I know you’re not competing, but I thought you would be going to support the Glee club.”

“Long story.” Blaine muttered, rubbing a hand over his face. “Sam told the Glee club about me being pregnant." 

"He did  _what_?" 

"I’d rather not talk about it, please.” he implored. “I really don’t want to go into school tomorrow and have to face everybody,  _knowing_  that they know.”

“I’m so sorry.” Kurt said, and Blaine knew he meant it. “I can speak to Sam, if you want me to -”

“No, no, it’s fine. You don’t have to do that." 

"Are you sure?”

Blaine nodded, then remembered that Kurt couldn’t see him.

“I’m sure.”

He let his hand trail down to his stomach, rubbing the small swell there. It wouldn’t be small for long. 

“Just take care of yourself, okay?" 

"I will. I promise.”

“Bye, Blaine.”

“Bye.”

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

Walking into school is like walking into a bullring, or the lion’s den.

The students are the bull, and he’s the unfortunate matador who has to fight and kill it - or in this case, try to navigate his day and get through his classes ignoring any judgmental stares or carrying whispers he might have to face. 

He feels like there should be an enormous target on his back, a poster reading  _I’m pregnant, come and make fun of me while you’ve got the chance._

But that doesn’t happen.

 

Nobody says anything. Not a single word or look follows him down the hallway to his locker, nobody points him out or laughs or calls him a cruel name as he gets his books out, hurries to the bathroom to throw up before homeroom, then hurries on to first period - AP English. 

_Did Kitty really keep her word?_

Until he remembers that Tina is in his AP English class and that her seat is right in front of his.

He ignores her when he walks in, hiding behind his copy of  _King Lear_  and pretending to read it so that she won’t talk to him. 

Except she drags her chair round to his desk, sits herself down and pulls his book away before he can ask her to leave. It’s not like he’s intentionally being cruel. He’d just rather not deal with this when it’s not even 9am yet and he isn’t allowed to drink coffee anymore. 

“How are you feeling?”

The whispered question took Blaine completely by surprise. He was so surprised, in fact, that he dropped  _King Lear_  and lost the page he was on.

“Um, okay, I guess.” He wondered if his nervousness showed on his face. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?" 

_There it is_ , he thought. The accusations and the judgement. 

But, he decides to give her the honest answer, because what else has he got left to lose?

"I was scared.” He admits. “I didn’t know what you’d think of me. I’m still trying to figure it all out, and I know I have Kurt but he’s not the one actually going through it, y'know? My parents still don’t know, and I have no idea how I’m going to tell them,”

“I’m sorry.” Tina said earnestly, putting a hand on his arm. 

“For what?" 

"That you have to do this all by yourself. It must be hard.”

“It’ll be even harder when I graduate, when I’m the size of a balloon, and not being able to hide it anymore. I won’t be able to keep making excuses for myself then.”

“Then we’ll help you.” Tina said. “All of us, in Glee club. Nobody’s going to judge you, Blaine. We want to help." 

He didn’t realize there were tears in his eyes until Tina pressed a tissue into his hand.

"Sorry.” He sniffed, still keeping his voice low. “Hormones." 

"Sam wants to talk to you, too.” Tina continued. “And don’t look at me like that - he feels terrible about letting it slip and he wants to apologize.”

“I don’t want to talk to him.” Blaine mumbled, his throat thick with tears. 

“C'mon, just hear him out. He feels awful.”

But Blaine didn’t have time to explain to her exactly why he didn’t want to hear what Sam had to say, because their teacher had just arrived and was calling for silence.

But it was nice, in a way, to know that the Glee club hadn’t abandoned him.

                                 _______________________

Despite his best efforts to avoid running into Sam, Blaine crossed paths with him during fourth period. Or rather, while he was throwing up in the bathroom (again) before fourth period. 

At least it had become less frequent. 

He’d thought the bathroom was empty, but apparently not, because the moment he heard the telltale squeak of Sam’s sneakers on the floor he knew he’d been caught.

“You okay in there?" 

It was definitely Sam. Blaine didn’t reply. 

"C'mon, I know you’re in here. I just wanna talk.”

Blaine eased himself up off the floor of the stall he was currently crouched in, cupping his stomach with the hand he wasn’t using to help himself up. 

“I suppose you want to explain  _why_ you told everyone about me.”

The words came out more bitter than he had intended them to, and he instantly felt bad, though he wasn’t sure why; Sam was in the wrong here, not him. 

Sam looked around carefully, to make sure they were alone in the bathroom.

“Look.” He began. “I messed up. I shouldn’t have let it slip and I shouldn’t have let Kitty get to me. But the stuff she was saying - she was talking about  _you_  and you’re like, my best friend and it made me mad, so it just slipped out. I couldn’t let her get away with saying that stuff about you.”

Blaine ran the faucet on one of the sinks and splashed his face with cold water, mainly just for something to do so that he didn’t have to reply straight away. 

“I'm  _sorry_. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to say." 

"I wish you hadn’t told everyone.” Blaine mumbled. “That was my choice to make, not yours.”

Dammit, why was he getting emotional again? Hadn’t this happened with Tina just that morning?

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

Finally, he met Sam’s gaze. There was no doubt that he  _was_  sorry; he could see it in his face. He realized that he wasn’t really angry anymore, just upset. Upset that that choice, the choice to tell everyone about his pregnancy, had been taken from him by someone he’d trusted. 

“Are we cool? ‘Cause I really don’t wanna  _not_  be friends….”

Blaine gave a small, quiet laugh. “We’re cool. I forgive you.”

“D'you need to stay here, or…..? 'Cause we’re kind of late to class…..”

“Oh, um, no, no, I’m fine now. It passes pretty quickly." 

Sam threw his arm round Blaine’s shoulders, in the way he sometimes did when they hung out together. It was familiar and it felt nice. It was nice to be supported instead of constantly being undermined. 

Now he just had the rest of the Glee club to deal with.

__________________________________

If walking into school was like entering the lion’s den, walking into Glee club was a hundred times worse. 

It was worse, because this was where he felt most at home. 

It was worse, because this was where he was most able to be himself. 

It was worse, because these were his friends.

It was worse, because their opinions were the ones he cared most about.

He could handle a few comments or a nasty retort made by someone whose name he didn’t know and would probably never see again once he graduated, but if it came from the Glee club, his  _friends_ , he wasn’t so sure. 

 

It was just lucky that he had Sam. 

“Is it kind of pathetic that I don’t want to go in there?” Blaine said quickly. 

“They’re not gonna judge you, dude. It's  _Glee club_. They aren’t gonna care.”

“You don’t know that.” he mumbled. 

“Then you don’t know the Glee club as well as you think you do. Trust me, they’re not gonna say anything about it, nothing negative anyway.”

“I just don’t want to feel like a freak." 

Blaine didn’t see Sam roll his eyes, but he did hear him sigh in exasperation. 

"You're  _not_  a freak.You’re just….”

“Abnormal?” Blaine offered, feeling his mood rapidly spiraling downwards with every step they took towards the choir room. 

“I was gonna say unique." 

"So, abnormal.”

Blaine crossed and uncrossed his arms, then crossed them again when he realized it would draw less attention to his stomach if he kept them folded. He wanted to go to Glee club less and less with every second that passed. 

Maybe he could just ignore them until all of this died down, then he could go back to pretending no-one knew. 

Because he knew how it would go. Sam knew, Kurt knew, and now the Glee club knew. It was only a matter of time before someone overheard something or let something slip, and then his parents would know -  _Kurt’s_  parents would know. 

And he’d rather them  _not_  find out until he was ready to personally tell them. 

“Look, if you don’t wanna go in there and face everyone, I’ll cover for you. But you gotta do it some time. Something like this….you can’t hide it forever.”

“I could try.”

Why now did everything seem so….daunting? The pressure of keeping it a secret, why now did it feel like it was too much? 

“I-I think I’m just gonna go home." 

All the way back down the hallway and out to his car, one word reverberated loud and clear inside his head.

_Coward._

_________________________________________

The doorbell rang just as he was dumping a giant-size bag of chips into a bowl.

They were his latest craving - the tortilla kind, with the spiciest hot sauce the supermarket offered. But at the moment he didn’t have any, so he would have to make do with them by themselves. 

The doorbell rang again, and someone knocked rather forcefully on the door. 

_Alright, alright_. Abandoning the chips on the kitchen counter, he hastened to answer it. 

And then immediately regretted it, frozen as he was on the threshold by the sight of Tina, Sugar, Unique, Marley, and -  _Kitty?_  - on his front doorstep. 

"Surprise!" 

Blaine couldn’t speak. He seemed to have forgotten how to. 

"We figured that if you weren’t comfortable with coming to us,” Tina said, “then we’d come to you.”

“The guys would’ve come, but they were busy, so here we are!” Marley added. 

“We’re all here because we support you.” Unique said, with finality. 

Then, Blaine was unable to speak for an entirely different reason than pure shock, and he swallowed hard against the lump that had risen in this throat, blinking quickly to avoid tears springing to his eyes.

It didn’t seem to have worked, however, because Tina handed him a tissue from her pocket, smiled, then said, “So can we come in or not? We didn’t come here to stand on your doorstep, you know.”

Bright red and flushed from embarrassment at crying in front of the girls, and for awkwardly standing there without inviting them in, he nodded, hastily wiping his eyes and hoping they wouldn’t look too closely at the damp patches on his cheeks where a few tears had leaked under his rapidly blinking eyelids. 

_Damn hormones_.

But in all honesty, he was touched. He was more than touched. And yes, he still felt nervous about being completely honest about his condition with his friends.

Even after a year, he still had that tiny nagging feeling at the back of his mind of being out of place, despite feeling more part of the group now than he ever did the previous year. 

But then Sugar, being Sugar, had to ruin it by blurting out, “So where does the baby come out of?”

It was awkward for a few moments, and everyone stared - then Blaine, as much to his own surprise as the others, burst out laughing. 

It was the best he’d felt for days.

_________________________________________

Blaine frowned, staring at himself critically in the mirror with his cardigan unbuttoned, shirt pushed up and pants pushed down, running the tip of his finger down the curve of his stomach. 

He appeared to have had a growth spurt, because it was a lot firmer and more defined that it had been a few days ago.

Either he was a little further along than he’d been told, or it looked like his baby was going to be big. 

Which definitely wasn’t what he needed to be thinking about right now, not when he knew that the pains in his back and hips and legs were only going to get worse. 

 

But no, there it was, clear as day. and he couldn’t even cover it up any more with a looser shirt because whichever way he pulled at it, it still clung to the shape of his growing stomach in a way that drew the eye to it constantly. 

It wasn’t that he wasn't  _proud_  to be expecting a baby - he was - but he was still nervous about other people noticing and finding out, especially his parents. 

And he’d never lied to his parents before, not really, which put added pressure on him to keep it a secret until he was ready to tell them. But when that would be, he didn’t know. 

For now, however, he had to think of the immediate present. He had booked a ticket to New York for that weekend, after checking that his parents wouldn’t be home to check up on him and was therefore free to do as he pleased. Going behind their back wasn’t really the best way of going about things, but it wasn’t like he had much of a choice in the matter. 

The New Directions had been upset when he’d told them he wouldn’t be going to Regionals to watch them perform, but they’d understood; even the guys had offered their support, even if they had been somewhat more confused about the whole thing than the girls had been. 

But it also meant that before he went to New York, he’d have to buy some new clothes, and especially some bigger pants. 

Maybe Tina would be up for a shopping trip. 

                 ____________________________________

Kurt’s finger had been hovering over the  _Send_  button for the best part of the last ten minutes. 

He was debating whether or not to send a text to Adam, one that asked him to meet with him so that they could talk. And by talk, Kurt meant talk about the fact that Kurt didn’t want to see him anymore. 

He couldn’t. Not when he was going to be a father in a few months’ time. And not when he was so hopelessly still in love with Blaine he didn’t know what to do with himself.

If he’d been confused about his feelings when they first broke up, he was even more confused now, especially since their circumstances had changed so much.

He missed him. He loved having him around, loved kissing him and touching him and holding his hand. He loved talking about their baby with him. 

He loved him. 

And he had to tell Adam he didn’t want to be with him, because there was already someone else. 

But he didn’t have the courage.

_Courage_.  _Blaine told me to have courage the first time I ever met him._

It was funny, really, how much time had passed. All that time, and yet he still felt the same about him now as he did back then.

Yes, things were different now, but he was tired of being apart, tired of pretending they were “just friends” when he no longer wanted to be. 

Without thinking about it, he pressed the button. 

_Send_. 

Then -

_Message sent._

                   _____________________________________

$1285. That’s how much both sonograms were going to cost. 

He had $1246, and wasn’t due to get his allowance until the end of the month. 

There was no way his parents would let him draw money out of the bank account set up for him when he was born, even though it was at his disposal any time he needed it now that he was 18. 

And to top it all off, he had three days to make the payment. 

It was only $19, but he wasn’t going to be able to get hold of it, at least without his parents knowing about it.

But still, three days was three days. He’d be back from New York by then, and then he’d decide what to do.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

“Are you  _sure_  we can’t change your mind and persuade you to come to Regionals with us?”

Tina’s voice sounded desperate as she pleaded with Blaine on the phone, the evening before the New Directions would be competing at Regionals - and the evening before Blaine was due to fly out to New York to spend the weekend with Kurt. 

“Not this time, no.”

He tried not to sound overly happy that he would be missing out on watching them perform, but it was difficult, because Kurt had informed him that Santana and Rachel would both be away for the weekend - Santana at a friends’ she’d met at the bar where she worked, Rachel back home in Ohio with her dads - and would therefore have the Bushwick loft to themselves. 

He had to admit, he rather relished that fact. 

No, he wasn’t going to get his hopes up - they would remain reasonably high, for now - but he couldn’t help feel good about this impending visit; about their whole relationship. 

Or maybe that was just the hormones. 

 

“Okay.” He winced inwardly at the obvious disappointment in her voice. But there wasn’t much he could do now - the tickets to New York were already booked and paid for. 

“But you are  _not_  hiding from us when you get back, okay?" 

"Who said I was hiding?”

If Tina had been sitting in front of him at that moment, Blaine could’ve sworn she would give him a  _look_. A look that said, “Don’t try to lie to me because I can tell and you’re not a very good liar.”

“Point taken.” He admitted a moment later. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Blaine.”

“…sorry.”

“Anyway, I gotta go - my mom is calling me for dinner. Have fun in New York!”

“And you - at Regionals.”

She hung up with a  _click_. 

Blaine half-wished he hadn’t jumped to conclusions so quickly about Sam when he’d told everyone about him. If he hadn’t, he’d be going to Regionals to watch everyone perform tomorrow instead of flying to New York. It sounded bad, but he wished that there was some way that he could do both at once, though he knew that was impossible. 

Ignoring the pain in his lower back and cringing slightly with regret, he pulled open his closet and brought out a medium-sized suitcase, with the intention of getting some stuff together that he would need for New York.

Perhaps Kurt wouldn’t notice that all his pants were now a size bigger.

                 _______________________________________

“Kurt, I don’t mean to be rude, but when you texted me earlier saying that you wanted to talk, you made it out to be urgent and yet you haven’t said a word to me for the last five minutes.”

The sound of Adam’s voice brought Kurt out of his reverie. He had been absent-mindedly stirring his coffee without realizing it had already started to cool in its styrofoam cup. 

“Sorry,” Kurt began, pushing a hand through his hair and rubbing at his eyes. “I’m just distracted.”

“Anything to do with why you wanted to talk to me so urgently?”

Well, there was no point in keeping anything from him now, Kurt thought.

“Yes.”

He tried not to feel guilty when Adam’s expression fell at his reply. It had been coming to this for a while now, but he’d been too…. _cowardly_  to actually do it. 

“Look,” Kurt started again, swallowing hard though his mouth was suddenly dry as the desert. “I really like you. You’re a nice guy, I just….I don’t think that I can see you anymore.”

_That wasn’t so difficult. That wasn’t so difficult at all._

“It’s because of your ex, isn’t it?”

Adam’s question threw him completely off-guard. He felt as though he’d been hit in the stomach, winded and unable to breathe. 

Kurt struggled to speak, but he didn’t need to. He’d already let Adam know everything that he needed to know. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, when he eventually found the right words, and was surprised to find that he was blinking back tears. “I’m really sorry." 

"Don’t apologize. I think I knew it would be something like this, and I’ve just been trying to deny it." 

Kurt furiously wiped away a stray tear that had been making its way down his cheek, trying to compose himself. 

"Is it too much to ask if we can still be friends?”

“No.” Kurt said, sniffing hard. “No, I’d like that. You’re about the only person at NYADA I know except Rachel.”

“Maybe you should branch out a bit.”

Kurt’s chest contracted painfully at the disappointment, even sadness in Adam’s voice.

He liked him, he really did. He just wan’t the guy for him. 

              ______________________________________

Another letter from the clinic arrived just as he was about to leave for the airport. A remainder that the costs for his last two sonograms would have to be paid in full within five working days. 

He still didn’t have all the money.

Self-consciously, he stuffed the envelope into the pocket of his jacket, making a mental note to remove it and put it somewhere before he got to New York, so that Kurt wouldn’t find it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

This was  _not_  what he had had in mind for the start of his weekend in New York; shaking and sweaty on the floor of the tiny bathroom in the Bushwick apartment while Kurt frantically pressed a cool cloth to his forehead and rubbed his back.

He’d only been in New York a few hours and things were already going wrong. 

And for some reason, he couldn’t stop mumbling apologies for it. 

“Ssh,” Kurt said quietly. “You’re probably coming down with something. You need to lie down. C'mon, I’ll help you to the couch and I’ll get you some water.”

Blaine didn’t know what was wrong. One minute he’d felt fine, and the next he’d felt flushed and hot all over, an ache pressing its finger at the front of his head and feeling nauseous, though it was a different kind of nausea from morning sickness. 

He allowed himself to be helped to the couch, his legs shaking when he stood, causing him to lean heavily against Kurt. He, however, didn’t complain, merely smoothed a stray curl back from Blaine’s forehead and set him gently on the large brown couch in the middle of the apartment, pulling the blanket that was thrown across the back over his knees. 

 

Kurt promptly returned with the glass of water, which he placed on the coffee table. 

“Do you need anything else? Because I can get you anything you need, there’s a store a block away from here, and a drugstore.”

“Maybe it’s my blood pressure or something,” Blaine said, slowly, as though speaking around a large mouthful of food. “I read online that it could get pretty high….” He shifted on the couch, restless; why was he so  _hot_ _?_ It felt like his skin was burning, and his body continued to shiver, tiny convulsions that made goosebumps erupt on the exposed skin of his arms, neck and forehead. 

Kurt sat down next to him, his expression concerned. He was wringing his hands in his lap, something he did when he was nervous or anxious. 

“I’m - I’m okay, Kurt, really, I probably just need to rest….but I don’t understand why I’m so  _warm_ …”

Kurt disappeared into the bathroom, then reappeared with the same cloth he’d used earlier in his hand. He sat back down on the couch and proceeded to press the cloth to Blaine’s forehead and face, and the cold damp of it felt great on his too-hot skin. 

“Better?”

Blaine let his eyes drift closed.

“Mm, yeah. A little.”

                _______________________________________

When Blaine opened his eyes, Kurt’s face was very close to his; he could see the clear blue of his eyes and the slope of his nose. He was looking at him, just looking and not saying anything. He must have fallen asleep, because his neck was sore where he’d sat in an awkward position. 

He was also no longer flushed or warm, and the nausea had gone too. 

“You were asleep.” Kurt confirmed softly. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“It wouldn’t have bothered me." 

"Are you feeling any better?”

Blaine nodded.

It was then that he noticed that Kurt’s hand was close to his, resting next to it on the couch with his fingers slightly outstretched, as if he wanted to hold Blaine’s own hand, but was reluctant. 

He bit the bullet and took it. 

It was exactly the same as it always had been, warm and gentle, their fingers fitting together perfectly. He’d missed holding Kurt’s hand. 

Self-consciously, Kurt moved forward and leaned his chin on Blaine’s shoulder, so that he was looking up at him. 

“I broke up with Adam yesterday.”

He spoke so quietly, Blaine almost didn’t hear him. But he did, and it caught him by surprise. He could feel his heart skip a beat or two in his chest, a leap of hope. 

But of course, he didn’t want to get his hopes up  _too_  high. 

“Oh?”

“It wouldn’t have been right.” Kurt said. “I couldn’t keep seeing him." 

Half of him wanted to ask,  _why are you telling me this?_  The other half was screaming, screaming at him that Kurt was no longer tied to anyone else, that he was single, that he was free to choose someone else to date.  _Him?_

"I’m sorry.” Blaine offered by way of response, trying to control the thoughts running rampant in his head. 

Kurt shook his head. “Don’t be. I guess I’ve known that it was coming for a while, it just took some courage to actually do it. Besides….I think we’ve known where this is going for a while, too.”

 _That_  caught Blaine’s attention. He sat up a little straighter, massaging his neck where it ached. 

“When you told me you were pregnant, I told you I loved you.” Kurt continued, his voice shaking slightly. “And that hasn’t changed.”

“What are you saying?”

A deep, shaky breath. A pause. He could feel Kurt’s hand tremble slightly in his own as he struggled for words, the right words. 

“I forgive you." 

Blaine felt like he’d missed a step going down the stairs, but in the best possible way. This was all - this was  _everything_  - that he had wanted to hear for months and to hear it now, coming from Kurt himself, was everything he had been imagining and hoping for. 

"I forgive you, and - and I’m ready. To try again. If you are.” Blaine could see the tears shining wetly in Kurt’s eyes. “God, I hope you are. I want you to be. Because I don’t think I can stand being apart from you for much longer.”

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear, Kurt.”

And then Kurt was looking at him with tears streaming down his face and smiling and laughing all at once, and Blaine didn’t really think, he reached forward and kissed him, in much the same way as he had done just over two years ago in the Dalton common room but this time everything was being felt afresh, as though he was relieving that moment over again but also living it for the first time. 

Kurt’s hand went to the back of his neck, pressing his mouth closer to his, his other hand resting on Blaine’s waist and gripping tight buy not too tight, not so tight that it hurt but was still possessive, making it very clear what he wanted. Blaine could feel Kurt’s tears on his own cheeks where their faces were pressed close together. 

“Should we-?” Blaine began, not really knowing how to phrase what he wanted to ask. It was difficult when Kurt’s hands were trailing over his thighs, smoothing them with his palms and creating a wonderful sensation on his hypersensitive skin. 

“Only if you want to.” Kurt panted around a kiss, his hands at the hem of Blaine’s t-shirt. In one movement, he pushed it up to around mid-torso, and gasped; running his fingers over the smooth, stretched skin of Blaine’s stomach in awe. 

“You weren’t lying when you said you were showing.” he remarked, breaking the kiss to trace a faint red line across the skin with the tip of his finger. “Your skin’s so  _warm_.”

“One of the many things that come with being pregnant.” Blaine said. “I think I’m starting to get stretch marks, though.”

“I think I’ve got some lotion that’ll sort that right out for you." 

Kurt was staring at him again. He could see the residual tears clinging to his eyelashes. 

"So are we-?”

“Together?”

“Yeah, that.”

“I think - I think you could say that.”

Kurt smiled.

“Fantastic.”

He leaned forward to kiss Blaine again. And again. He smoothed his tongue over Blaine’s, ran it along the roof of his mouth and the backs of his teeth, eliciting a moan from him, the kind of moan Kurt hadn’t heard in a  _really_  long time. 

He hovered, his face inches from Blaine’s. 

“So….we’re back together?”

Kurt was silent for a moment. 

“We’re back together.”

And kissed him again. 

_____________________________________

 When Blaine woke, bright shafts of sunlight were already streaming to the apartment through the left-hand windows (or right-hand, from where Blaine lay in the double bed that Kurt and Rachel shared). It was warm under the blankets, and Kurt was nowhere to be found. 

Blaine leaned to the side so that he could look through the gap in the curtain that separated the bed from the rest of the apartment. He could vaguely see the outline of Kurt, still in the t-shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in, busying himself with the coffee machine.

 _Kurt._  

What  _time_  was it?

Sitting up slowly, he rubbed at his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, suppressing a groan when he felt the way it stuck up on one side where he’d lain on it in the night. 

The events of the previous night came back to him slowly, seeping into his mind as if they were coming from somewhere else, somewhere far away - like they were coming from a dream. But this wasn’t a dream. It had happened. 

Kurt had forgiven him. 

He’d told him he wanted to start over. 

He’d told him he wanted to be with him again. 

 

No, it was most definitely not a dream. There was a small purple mark on his hip where his pyjamas had ridden up that told him otherwise. He vividly recalled Kurt’s soft, hot mouth and the brush of his fingertips along his skin.

It took him a moment to realize that his usual early-morning nausea was completely gone, too. 

He smiled to himself as Kurt appeared round the edge of the curtain, a smile on his own face and his eyes bright. 

“Rise and shine." 

"Uh - how long was I asleep? What time is it?”

“It’s almost eleven, but you looked so peaceful I didn’t want to disturb you.” Kurt said. “Besides, you should be getting as much rest as you can.”

“I’m pregnant, not an invalid.” Blaine laughed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed as he moved to get up. 

“I know. But you’re going to have to deal with six more months of me nagging, so you might as well get used to it now.”

Blaine stood up. Kurt stepped forward and reached out, wrapping his arms around Blaine’s waist and pulling him in. He could feel the faint press of Blaine’s stomach against his own flat one, barely there but noticeable from this position all the same. 

“I missed this.” He pecked him quickly on the lips, sweet and fleeting. “I missed  _you.”_

 _“_ Well, you have me now. I’m not going anywhere. I never was.”

Kurt leaned his forehead against Blaine’s lightly, breathing deeply, as though struggling with some feeling inside him. 

“I hoped you’d wait for me, and you did, and that’s more than I can ask for.”

“So….” Blaine began, kissing the side of Kurt’s mouth. “Coffee?”

“I made decaf just for you.” Kurt smiled. “I bought a whole box.”

“Won’t Santana and Rachel get suspicious when they come back?”

“I’ll just tell them I’ve been having trouble sleeping and wanted to cut down on my caffeine intake.” Kurt said. “It wouldn’t exactly be a lie….”

Blaine’s questioning expression prompted Kurt to elaborate. 

“With my dad, and everything with Adam, and  _you…._ it’s not been easy to concentrate on things.”

“Sorry." 

"Don’t apologize.” Kurt’s stomach rumbled audibly. “Breakfast?”

“Breakfast.”

                  ________________________________________

Several hours later, Blaine was dozing lightly on the couch when he was woken up by someone sitting on the other end of it, making that half of the couch sink and the springs creak. 

No, not someone. Kurt. He looked nervous and….uncomfortable? Worried? He was frowning, his jaw set, and in his hand was a white envelope. 

The same envelope that had, he was sure, moments previously been in his own coat pocket where it was hanging up on the back of the front door. 

“Kurt-” he began, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes. “Where did you get that?" 

"I was moving your coat, and it fell out. I wasn’t going to look at it, I know I shouldn’t have….” Kurt bit his lip. “It’s really bad that I read it, isn’t it?”

“I only brought it with me because I was running late for the airport, and I didn’t want to leave it at home in case my parents saw it and asked questions." 

But Kurt’s expression remained rigid. 

"Look, I don’t want to overstep here - I know that we’re - we’re together again now but I don’t want to overstep my boundaries. There’s a lot we still have to do, have to work on, and I don’t want to compromise that when I can finally get some sleep at night and not feel guilty when I dream about you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I want to help you out…..with some money.” Kurt began, treading carefully. “This - this is only the beginning, and it’s going to get more expensive from here on out, and I don’t want you to try and deal with this all by yourself. You don’t have to, not anymore. Let me give you a loan, anything, to help cover the costs.”

“But Kurt, you have NYADA to pay for-”

Kurt shook his head. “I’m not budging on this. This is our  _baby_ ,  _our_  child, and I want to help in any way that I can, especially since I’m so far away right now and I won’t get to see you very often.”

“Trust me, in a few months I won’t be difficult to miss.” Blaine said wryly, glancing down at his stomach pointedly. 

“The point is,” Kurt put the envelope down and smoothed his hands over his thighs, “you shouldn’t have to do this alone, and you don’t have to, because you have me.”

Blaine reached forward and kissed him gently, bringing Kurt’s hands around his waist so that they were pressed together, chest to chest. 

“Thank you.” he said, speaking around a hard lump that had risen in his throat. 

“For what?” Kurt cocked his head, questioning. 

“For not giving up on me even though I messed up. I know I’m not perfect, and I don’t want to be, but….thank you.”

“You may not be perfect, Blaine Anderson,” Kurt said, “but I’ll take it.”

________________________________________

It was just before Blaine was due to leave for the airport (again), the taxi cab Kurt had ordered for him just ten minutes away, when Kurt suddenly rushed into the ‘bedroom’ and came back out round the curtain with something in his hand. 

“Now, I know you kept saying I didn’t have to, and I kept saying that I insisted, but I haven’t forgotten what I promised you the other night.” Kurt said. “So this,” he raised his hand, “is for you.”

He took Blaine’s hand and pressed what looked like at least ten twenty-dollar bills into it.  _Two hundred dollars._

 _“Kurt,_ ” he started, eyes wide, “where did you even  _get_  this?”

“I told you I would help you out with hospital costs and other related expenses, so I am. I keep telling you, it’s not just you anymore. It’s not just even you and  _me_ , anymore, it’s for all three of us. You, me, and our baby. So please take it.”

He could have sworn something sparked in Kurt’s eyes, something warm and happy. 

He closed his hand around the dollar bills in his palm, and Kurt let go. 

“Thank you.”

Kurt stepped forward and pulled Blaine into his arms, so that their chests were pressed together. He was smiling. 

 

“I love you.” A quick, soft kiss to Blaine’s lips. “And I want you to take care of yourself, okay? You have a month till graduation, and I  _promise_  you I am going to be there. After that, you’re stuck with me.”

“Oh, I think it’s a little late for that." 

"Just - just have a good flight, okay?” Kurt said, patting the loose curls at the front of Blaine’s forehead, pushing them out of the way. 

“Okay.”

One last kiss, the sound of the taxi outside honking its horn to announce its arrival, and Blaine was gone, reluctant to leave Kurt’s embrace, the two hundred dollars  he had given him still clutched in his hand. 

                    _________________________________

“We won!”

Blaine was nearly knocked over the minute he entered the choir room by Tina, who flew at him as soon as he appeared in the doorway for that afternoon’s practice. 

“We won Regionals! It’s too bad you couldn’t have been there, but….wait, are you even listening to me?”

“Oh! Uh, sorry, my - my mind was somewhere else.” He smiled at her. “But that’s great! Congratulations.”

“He doesn’t mean it.” Kitty trilled from the back of the room in a sing-song voice. “He has other things to worry about now, don’t you, preggers?”

“Leave it, Kitty.” snapped Sam. 

But Tina was looking at him curiously, scanning his face. 

“You  _do_  have something you’re hiding!" 

"Is it twins?” Unique asked hopefully. 

“Uh,  _no,_ it’s - no.” he stammered. “Uh - Kurt and I are back together.”

There was a loud crashing sound as Artie lost control of his wheelchair and rolled into the drum kit, mouth open in shock.

The rest of the New Directions all started talking once, so that the whole room was full of noise. 

“That’s amazing!”

“Oh my God!”

“ _Finally._ ”

“How did it happen?" 

"Are you for real?”

“That’s great news, dude.”

“I’m really happy for you.”

Blaine ducked his head, cheeks pink from embarrassment but humbled by the way the rest of the Glee club had responded.

“Did you have sex?” Sugar blurted loudly, and he swore he heard Ryder and Jake groan with discomfort from wherever they were sitting. 

“I - don’t think that’s any of your business." 

"Which means yes.” she said, defiantly. 

“Does that mean that you’re official again now?” Tina asked. 

“Uh, yeah, I guess it does.”

“And you’re not going to break up again?”

“I shouldn’t think so, no.”

“Good.” Tina said, with an air of finality. “That’s one less drama we’ll have to deal with, and just in time for graduation, too.”

_Graduation._

He hadn’t given graduation more than a second thought, although in just a few short weeks he would be leaving high school, leaving McKinley, forever.

It just hadn’t crossed his mind, and there was so much to  _do_  - he’d have to send Cooper an invite or else he’d complain, and he still had to order his graduation gown, which would probably have to be in a bigger size because in a few short weeks he’d be four and a half months pregnant. 

The thought scared him as much as it thrilled him. 

                     _____________________________________

On his way home from school, he stopped by Dr. Marshall’s clinic to pay the expenses of his sonograms, as well as to tell the nurse at the front desk - because the clinic also acted as a drugstore for its patients - that he no longer needed a renewal of his prescription for anti-nausea medicine. 

He used the extra cash that Kurt had given him, and tried not to feel too guilty about it. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

“Alright, guys! The Board has just released the date for Nationals." Mr Schue announced, holding a piece of paper aloft in his hand. "June 26th. And that’s only two weeks after graduation, so we better get started right away.”

“But Mr Schue, we  _just won_ Regionals.” Ryder said. “Can’t we, y'know, celebrate a little bit first?”

“I agree.” Blaine spoke up from where he sat next to Tina. “I know that I won’t be competing at Nationals and I understand how important it is to be prepared, but we need to relax and enjoy ourselves, too.”

“Only don’t enjoy yourselves  _too_ much, or you’ll end up knocked up like him.” Kitty stage-whispered, earning her a glare from Unique.

Blaine bit down on his tongue, hard, to stop himself from retaliating. Would she ever leave him alone?

 

“Anyway…” Mr Schue began again, “we  _do_  need to start thinking ahead, so your assignment for this week is to start brainstorming some ideas for songs.”

There was a collective groan.

                 ________________________________________

_**Kurt Hummel**  has sent you a relationship request. _

Looking up from his homework, Blaine couldn’t help biting back a smile at the little red notification that had popped up on the screen of his laptop.

His relationship status had said “single” for far too long. 

In the beginning, even looking at it made him feel sick.  _Blaine Anderson is single._  It was like a punch to the stomach every time he went onto his homepage and saw it there, mocking him.  _Kurt doesn’t want you anymore._

Now, it felt just as it had done when they’d first changed their statuses’ on their respective Facebook pages. It meant something different, now, though. It wasn’t starting from the beginning, it was re-winding the video back to the start in order to go through it all again. 

Blaine clicked  _Confirm_.

_**Kurt** _ **_Hummel_  ** _went from “single” to “in a relationship.”_

_**Blaine** _ **_Anderson_  ** _went from “single” to “in a relationship._

_**Kurt Hummel**  is in a relationship with  **Blaine Anderson.**_

                ________________________________________

 From: Kurt (4:54pm)

_I think I’d like a girl._

To: Kurt (4:56pm)

_What?_

From: Kurt (4:59pm)

_I was thinking and I’d like it to be a girl. The baby._

To: Kurt (5:00pm)

_I don’t think you get to choose, Kurt._

From: Kurt (5:01pm)

_You know what I mean._

To: Kurt (5:02pm)

_You really want a girl?_

From: Kurt (5:04pm)

_I’d like one. Of course, I don’t really mind what sex our child is as long as they’re healthy, but if I had to say I had a preference…._

To: Kurt (5:06pm)

_That’s…..Kurt, you have no idea what that means to me. What you mean to me._

From: Kurt (5:08pm)

_I think I do._

To: Kurt (5:09pm)

_Thank you for taking me back._

From: Kurt (5:10pm)

_On some level I always knew I would, eventually._

To: Kurt (5:12pm)

_Well, thank you anyway. For everything._

From: Kurt (5:14pm)

_I lost you once. I’m not going to do anything that means losing you again._

To: Kurt (5:16pm)

_So you really think it’s a girl?_

From: Kurt (5:17pm)

_I’d like it to be. But you probably have a better idea than me about this kind of thing since you’re the one carrying him/her._

To: Kurt (5:18pm)

_I haven’t decided yet. I’ll have a better idea soon. Maybe when the baby starts moving and I can feel it I’ll be able to tell._

From: Kurt (5:19pm)

_I still can’t quite believe this is actually happening._

To: Kurt (5:21pm)

_Neither can I. I don’t even know how my parents will react. I almost don’t want to tell them, but I know I’ll have to eventually._

From: Kurt (5:22pm)

_We can tell them together. After you graduate. If you want to._

To: Kurt (5:25pm)

_You’d do that for me?_

From: Kurt (5:26pm)

_Of course I would._

From: Kurt (5:27pm)

_For you, I would do anything. And I know how that sounds, but it’s true. I would._

From: Kurt (5.28pm)

_It scares me how much that’s true._

From: Kurt (5:29pm)

_Blaine, please say something._

To: Kurt (5:30pm)

_I love you._

From: Kurt (5:32pm)

_I love you too_

From: Kurt (5:33pm)

_:)_

____________________________________

The New Directions were working too hard. 

Mr Schue’s idea of a break was a week off from rehearsal and then back into intense choreography and learning lyrics, almost non-stop for the whole practice hour, before they traipsed home bedraggled and worn-out - even the guys. 

From his vantage point on the periphery, excused from rehearsal for obvious reasons, Blaine could notice these things and he couldn’t help but feel a little concerned.

He was lucky, in a way, but whenever he had that thought, he felt bad, because it was as if he was using his pregnancy as an excuse to get out of doing things - something that Kitty, much to his annoyance, never failed to comment on at each Glee club meeting.

And, if he was honest, her words were a little hurtful. 

 

He was self-conscious about the fact that he’d gained four pounds in a week (not that there was really any need to be, it was just an old insecurity made worse by his present condition) and her comments hardly helped to boost his confidence. 

Coming up to fifteen weeks pregnant, he had become more and more anxious that someone would notice or figure it out and then he’d be exposed, and who knows what would happen then?

He only had to make it to graduation, then he and Kurt could tell both their parents together. 

            _______________________________________________

Kurt felt a sense of foreboding as soon as he stepped through the door into the apartment that he shared with Rachel and Santana. He had had plans to call Blaine, practice a complex routine for dance class for an hour, call Blaine again while he made something for dinner and then watch a marathon of whatever guilty pleasure TV show happened to be running that night. 

But he was stopped in his tracks by his two roommates, who sat side by side in ominous fashion in what constituted the living area, wearing matching expressions that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a jury in a court. 

“Something wrong, ladies?” Kurt hung up his jacket on the back of the door, then went immediately in the direction of the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee, but was stopped.

“Sit.” Santana said firmly, pointing one foot in the direction of the other empty chair around their coffee table. “And make it quick. Leave the coffee.”

 _This is very weird_. But nonetheless he obeyed. 

“Now,” Santana began again, “as you recent Facebook status update as shown, Cinderfella, you and Frodo are back together.”

Kurt ignored the insult. 

“ _However_ ,” Rachel chimed in, “we are  _both_  concerned that perhaps this isn’t the right time for you to take such a big step.”

“We got back together, we’re not getting married.” Kurt quipped, irritated. “I thought you would be happy for me.”

“Quit the crap, Hummel.” Santana said suddenly, “we know you’re only together again because-" 

And then she stopped abruptly. For once, she held her tongue and refrained from saying exactly what she wanted to, and Kurt’s heart was beating a mile a minute in his chest. 

Rachel and Santana shared a look, then Rachel pulled a folded piece of paper from her pants pocket and smoothed it out on the table.

And then it dawned on Kurt.

"You went through my stuff.” Kurt deadpanned. 

“Yes.”

“And you - you found - no, you went  _looking_ for -” He could barely get out the words. His heart was hammering so hard it felt like it might burst right out of his chest. 

“A sonogram photo with Frodo’s name on it? Yeah, pretty much.” Santana said. 

“Look, Kurt, we’re not trying to tell you what to do-”

“Yeah, we are." 

” _Anyway_ , we’re not trying to tell you what to do but do you really think is is the best reason to rekindle your relationship with Blaine?“

Somehow, he knew that they were only expressing their concern. They were his friends. But the very idea that Kurt would only agree to getting back together with Blaine because he was having his baby - well, it was ridiculous. And yes, he  _had_ thought himself whether that was the reason or not, but he had come to realize that it wasn’t. He loved him. He always had. And that was why they had  _both_  agreed that it was time they began again, and started things over. 

"You have no idea why Blaine and I decided to get back together, and it’s none of your business.” He said, an edge creeping into his voice that he wished wasn’t there, but it was too late now. “And as matter of fact, I’d been thinking about it even before he told me he was pregnant, and after he did, it only made me want to get back together with him even more. You don’t know anything about our relationship. And I appreciate your concern, but don’t accuse me of having an ulterior motive. I love him. That’s all there is to it.”

After he’d finished, he slumped back into the chair, brushing wildly at the tears he didn’t even know had begun to burn at the backs of his eyes. 

“You’re right.” Rachel mumbled, embarrassed - and, it seemed, wanting attention. “We’re sorry.”

“So how far along is he?" 

It was Santana who asked the question, a hint of a smile on her face. 

"Almost fifteen weeks.”

“So you  _did_  sleep together at Mr Schue’s wedding!” Rachel exclaimed, slapping her hand on her thigh in her excitement. “I knew it, I knew it!”

“Oh, please, I could  _smell_  it on them the moment they left the reception together.” Santana rolled her eyes. But then her expression softened again. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We don’t know. I’d like a girl, but it’s not like it’s a requirement….” Kurt found himself smiling in spite of himself. Just talking about it made him feel light and airy inside, as if he were made of feathers. “I think I’d like to keep it a surprise, until he or she is born.”

“But you are happy, though, aren’t you?” There was a tenderness in Rachel’s voice that was rare. 

“Yes.” He said firmly, knowing it to be true as he spoke. “I am. I don’t know why I waited so long….I was afraid, I guess. But if I kept putting it off, I’d never do it, and I don’t think I could have lived with the possibility of having lost an opportunity to put things right.”

                    _____________________________________

“Blaine, wake up." 

A gentle hand shook his shoulder, rousing him from what had been a pleasant dream - or at least, what little he remembered of it as he woke had been pleasant. 

"You’re in AP English. You fell asleep.” The voice was familiar - it was Tina who had woken him. 

_Crap._

“I fell asleep?” he mumbled, rubbing at his eyes. “Did anyone see me?" 

"No.” Tina whispered. “You’re good. Well, I don’t know - are you? You look kind of pale.”

Blaine glanced up at their teacher, who was busy marking essays at her desk. He really did hope she hadn’t seen him sleeping. At least they’d got seats in the back. 

“Just tired. It’s normal, don’t worry about it.” He waved off her concern, blinking several times. 

“I think you should go home and get some rest.” She insisted.

And, he supposed, she was right - that penetrating ache in his hips and lower back had returned, spreading through the lower half of his body and making it painful to sit in the industrial plastic chairs all classrooms had as standard regulation. His shoulders were aching, too, but that might have been because of the way he’d fallen asleep, hunched over at the desk in an awkward position. 

“Fine. I’ll go home after this period. Will you cover for me?”

Tina smiled. “Of course.”

        _________________________________________________

It was 3:02am when Kurt got the call, sitting up groggily and searching for his cellphone in the darkness - and immediately panicked when he saw that the Caller ID said  _Blaine._

He had barely pressed  _Call_  before he put it to his ear, eyes wide though no-one could see him.

“What is it? What’s wrong? And don’t lie to me, I can handle the truth.”

There was silence on the other end, and Kurt half-thought that Blaine might have accidentally called him by mistake in his sleep. It wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before. 

“I felt it." 

"What?”

“I felt it. The baby. I felt it  _move_ , Kurt. I was just lying here trying go to sleep and I felt it. Like a fluttering sensation. But I felt it. I can’t even talk properly, it was - it was  _amazing_ , Kurt. And soon you’ll be able to feel it, too.”

Kurt almost dropped his cellphone, but managed to keep hold of it as he drew breath in long gasps and felt a welling of emotion in his chest and in his throat. 

“Are you - really?” was the only thing he could manage to say.

“I know it’s late - or early, actually - but I just really wanted to tell you and I couldn’t wait till the morning." 

"No, no, I - thank you, for telling me. You’re right, this  _is_  amazing and I’m glad you told me." 

"I didn’t want to disturb you, but I just couldn’t wait." 

"I know. This is a huge thing, Blaine.  _Really_  huge. It feels - real, now, y'know? 

"I know.”

“I’m so glad we decided to get back together.” Kurt whispered, barely audible. “Really, I am.”

“Me too.” If Kurt could have seen Blaine, he probably would have been smiling. 

“We’ll talk in the morning, okay?” Kurt said.

“Okay.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

_BUY YOUR CAPS AND GOWNS NOW FOR WILLIAM MCKINLEY_ _HIGH SCHOOL’S CLASS OF 2013_ _GRADUATION  CEREMONY._

The enormous poster advertising the said items made Blaine stop in his tracks.

Everywhere they went, it seemed as though graduation was coming ever closer.  _  
_

There were three weeks left of the school year. For Blaine, Sam, Artie, Tina and Brittany, they were the last three weeks they would ever spend at William McKinley High School.

None of them, however, were quite sure how they felt about it, most of all Blaine. Graduation seemed so insignificant to him compared to the huge changes already going on his life, both metaphorically and physically, as he noted with chagrin as he had failed in getting his cardigan to button for the third time that week. 

Three weeks. That was all that was left, and then he’d be done with high school forever. 

 

 But his future was so insecure. There was no way he’d be able to attend college in the fall. He wasn’t even sure if he would be able to move to New York - and that was the thought that plagued him the most. Kurt was in New York. They were back together now, happy, and looking forward to the arrival of their baby. But what if it didn’t work out? What if they ended up exactly where they were last fall, when everything had fallen apart so quickly and so suddenly it had been as though someone had ripped the ground from beneath them and plunged them into a bottomless pit?

Then there was, of course, the fact that they  _were_  going to have a baby. Or rather, Blaine was, to take it literally. His parents still didn’t know - he and Kurt had made plans to tell both their parents together, at graduation. If he could make it that far without anything happening, then he would be able to breathe easily. 

But still. Four years of high school, over in just a few weeks. And after that, there was Nationals to think about. 

And then, the rest of his life.

                _______________________________________

Kurt hadn’t exactly planned to tell his father that he and Blaine were back together. Not yet, anyway. It just sort of  _happened_.

He’d called, as he usually did, around the same time every night - 7pm, when he knew that Kurt had had dinner and would be sitting down to read magazines or watch TV, and the conversation went as it always did. 

Kurt asked about his father’s health, and Burt in turn asked how New York was going. 

And then Kurt let it slip.

“I - what?” his father spluttered on the other end of the line, more surprised than even Kurt was at his confession. 

“I - dad, you weren’t supposed to find out like this-” Kurt began, panicking internally.

What would his dad say? Would he approve? 

“Kurt, listen. I - I'm  _happy_  that you and Blaine are together again and working things out. I think it’s great that you have, that you are. Not that I ever doubted it, but still.”

“You’re not - you’re not mad?” Kurt asked tentatively.

Burt laughed. “Mad? Why would I be mad? Kurt, he  _loves_  you, and you love him. I know you’ve had a rough past few months but you deserve to be happy with each other again.”

 _And I am,_  Kurt thought.  _I am happy. It’s not the same, not yet, but it will be_.

“Thanks, dad.” Kurt found himself sniffing - holding back tears. Maybe Blaine’s pregnancy hormones were rubbing off on him, even when he was hundreds of miles away. 

“I’m happy for you, kid. You know I am. And you tell that to Blaine, too.”

“I will." 

                    __________________________________

Blaine stared at himself in the mirror, frowning.

In one week, he would officially be at the four-month mark, and it showed. 

It wasn’t exactly that he was  _complaining_  about having gained so much weight because really, it only reinforced the fact that he was developing as he should be and that the baby was developing as it should be, but really, was it necessary for it to show so much? 

Okay, so maybe he  _was_  complaining a little. He was wearing his most comfortable sweatpants and a loose sweater, the loosest he owned, and yet it was still a little tight on him, and drawing attention to the fact that his stomach was  much rounder and more pronounced now, rounding out quickly as he reached the stage where he was likely to blow up like a balloon before long. 

Very gently, he cupped his hand around the growing round curve, just under his belly button. He could feel the baby inside, a barely-there fluttering movement, and he wished it was more noticeable so that Kurt would be able to feel it when he came to Lima for the graduation ceremony. 

The problem now was telling their parents. 

His cellphone buzzed suddenly from where he’d left it on the carpet.

Pulling his sweater back into place, he picked it up. 

_1 New Message from: Kurt_

From: Kurt (6:51pm)

_I can’t wait to see you._

From: Kurt (6:52pm)

_Rachel and Santana know, by the way. They figured it out. And they know about the baby, but I made them swear not to tell anyone. And yes, I did make Santana take a blood oath not to tell._

From: Kurt (6:54pm)

_And if she does, I will murder her in her sleep. I have the means to do it and I will._

From: Blaine (6:56pm)

_I can’t wait to see you, either. :)_


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

With two weeks to go until graduation, Blaine’s mom had been pestering him to decide who he wanted to invite to the ceremony.

Not that it was of particular interest to him - he really didn’t mind who came. Cooper would have to be invited, or else he’d complain and Blaine wouldn’t stop hearing about it until his first high school reunion, and maybe even after that, too. His parents were a given. Maybe his grandmother, but she lived three hours away and she was old; perhaps she wouldn’t be up for travelling. 

And then, of course, there was Kurt, who had promised he’d be there, no matter what happened. 

It would be easy - if his morning sickness hadn’t come back with a vengeance almost as soon as the date arrived that meant he was four months pregnant, as if it had been planned.

 

Crouching in the bathroom every morning before school, despite not having eaten since the night before, he’d feel just the same as he did when he first started getting sick - nauseous, exhausted, and irritable, not to mention light-headed from lack of sugar in his blood. But how could he eat when he did nothing except throw it back up again?

School was difficult, going from class to class constantly queasy and having to hold his breath lest a whiff of a student’s perfume or hairspray or even a cloud of dust make him ill. 

Sam and Tina looked at him with concerned faces, asking him over and over whether he was alright, whether he needed to go to the nurse - and, of course, he told them that yes, he was fine, and no, he didn’t need to see the nurse. It wasn’t worth it when there were only two weeks of high school left and he still had some things to sort out so that he could graduate. 

So he battled on, fighting the waves of nausea and fluctuating dizziness, and whenever anyone asked him if he was alright, he would smile and say yes and hope they didn’t notice that he was trying to keep from throwing up.

                    _____________________________________

A week later and he still wasn’t any better, graduation was coming ever closer, and he was finding it really, really difficult to pretend that everything was alright.

His constant excuses not to eat made his mom look at him with an expression he really hoped he wouldn’t have to see - worry and anxiety, looking at him as if she wanted to say something, but didn’t for fear of upsetting him. 

Most of the time he stayed in his room, lying flat on his bed with his hands on his growing stomach, distracting himself with the feel of the baby moving inside him. 

He still had his graduation gown to sort out, but how could he explain to his mom that he needed one in a bigger size than he should be because of his expanding waistline? 

He’d thought keeping it a secret would be easy, now that he had Kurt and he was so close to leaving McKinley forever. As it turned out, it might not be so easy after all. 

Groaning, Blaine dragged himself off the bed, hoping that maybe he’d be able to drink a glass of water and keep it down this time. 

                     _________________________________

“Blaine? Blaine, I’m afraid Cooper won’t be coming to your graduation, he says he can’t make it, something about another audition for a toothpaste commercial that he’s convinced will launch his career -”

His mom kept speaking, but he didn’t hear her. He was too busy struggling with the zipper on a pair of pants, which absolutely would  _not_  budge no matter how much force to he used. 

And he’d not long bought these, either. 

“Blaine?”

He sank down onto the bed in defeat and pressed the heels of his hands hard into his eyes, burning and prickling with humiliation. He’d never really been  _that_  hung-up about the way his body looked. He knew he didn’t, and probably never would, look like Sam or Jake or any athletic guy, but it hadn’t really bothered him, not really. He had felt a little embarrassed at first when the guys had all done the calendar to raise money for Regionals, but that had soon gone away and he’d actually enjoyed it. 

The bed sagged when his mom sat on it, sat beside him. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly, using that concerned ‘Mom-voice’ that made a lump rise painfully in his throat. He knew it was stupid to cry over a pair of pants that didn’t fit, because he knew the reason  _why_  they didn’t, but he still did. 

“Blaine, you’ve been acting….strange, for months now. You’ve been ill, but you won’t say anything to me or your dad about it. You’ve been keeping something from us, haven’t you?”

Blaine knew that she wasn’t trying to be accusing - wasn’t accusing him of lying or keeping secrets, he knew that. But that’s what it felt like to him and it made him feel hollow inside with sudden guilt. 

“I’m sorry.” he managed to say, fighting past the burn in his throat that threatened real tears. “I wasn’t - I was going to wait until graduation to tell you and dad together, but-”

“But what?” She reached out to push back a curl that had come loose and fallen over his forehead. “Sweetheart, you need to tell me if there’s something wrong.”

“Not wrong.” he said, rubbing fiercely at his eyes. “I don’t want you be disappointed in me.”

“Why would I be disappointed in you?” She hated seeing either of her children this way, but Blaine had always been particularly vulnerable. Cooper was more resilient; things ran off him like water off a duck’s back. But not Blaine. 

Blaine bit his lip, hard enough that he tasted blood, which made his stomach crawl with nausea. Would he be betraying Kurt if he told her the truth? They’d promised to do it together; but now he was having second thoughts. 

He couldn’t let his Mom continue to worry about him the way she was. It would be cruel of him to let her. 

“Just - promise me you won’t get mad at me.” he whispered, his voice barely audible. Was he really going to do this? He and Kurt had promised -

But it was too late for that now. He would explain later, and hope that Kurt would understand. 

Perhaps he didn’t have to say it; perhaps he could  _show_  it instead. 

Soundlessly, he got up off the bed and went round to his nightstand, digging around until he found the photograph from his second sonogram. Granted, it was old now, but it would do. It would, hopefully, be enough for his Mom to understand. 

He handed it to her, his hand shaking. He swallowed, convulsively, several times before lowering himself back down onto the bed, watching his Mom carefully for her reaction. 

He couldn’t bear it if she were furious. 

Her eyes went from him, to the photograph, and back again. Trying to figure out how it could be possible.

“I’m - I’m seventeen weeks.” Blaine explained, his voice hoarse. He cleared this throat, started again. “Kurt and I - we’re back together, now, and we’re keeping the baby. I know this means I won’t be going to college and I know dad will be disappointed, but it’s what I want. I can always apply next year, when - when things are more settled.”

But his Mom didn’t shout, didn’t get angry, didn’t tell him that she was disappointed in him or that he’d been irresponsible or stupid. In fact, she didn’t say anything at all, only put her arms around him and pulled him close, so that he rested his head on her shoulder and inhaled the scent of the perfume she always wore and that he associated with his childhood.

And it didn’t even make him feel sick. 

“Why did you wait so long to say anything?” she asked, cupping his cheek the way she had when he was younger. He wished she wouldn’t; his throat was burning again. 

“I was scared.” he admitted. “I didn’t want to tell anyone, at first. But I told Sam. He came with me when I had my first sonogram.”

“Sam is a good friend to you.” she said. “I’m glad you had someone to help you. I know how it can be - I’ve been there, twice.” She laughed. “It’s not going to be easy, and I’m not going to tell you otherwise.”

“I know." 

"But if you’re happy, and Kurt is happy, then I  _and_  your dad will support you.”

“You don’t think dad’ll be disappointed?" 

"He may be. But that’s just the way he is. He’s set in his way, he’s always been in that way. But he’ll come around. He loves you.”

“I know.”

“And by the way - I’m afraid Cooper won’t be coming to your graduation. He says it’s urgent that he attend an audition he has but that he sends his congratulations.”

“Sounds a lot like Cooper.” Blaine said, trying not to feel disappointed. “He’d probably postpone his own wedding if he got an audition. Or his own funeral.”

His Mom bent to press a quick kiss to his temple. “C'mon,  _aking sinta_ , I’ll make you some green tea. It does wonders for nausea.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy

_I’m graduating today._

That was the single thought on Blaine’s mind from the moment he woke, easing himself slowly out of bed and bracing himself against the nightstand when he swayed on the spot, a little dizzy. At least he didn’t feel nauseous this morning. 

Still, he refused breakfast and sipped a mug of warm green tea instead, feeling a ball of nervousness start to grow in his stomach. He wasn’t really sure why. Graduation wasn't  _that_  big of a deal, not really. He’d been to Kurt’s graduation the previous year, and he couldn’t really see why people made it out to be a huge spectacle. 

Of course, he didn’t count on crying for fifteen minutes when Tina sent him a text wishing him good luck for the day, which rather shocked his Mom and he had to insist that he was fine so that she wouldn’t worry.

 And it got worse. 

Tina flew at him in the parking lot when he arrived at school, squeezing him so tight he thought he might pop, and he had to swallow hard to stop a second wave of tears. 

 

When Sam threw an arm around his shoulders and said how amazing it was to be actually,  _finally_  graduating from high school, he discreetly slipped him a tissue when he saw that his eyes were wet, which both embarrassed Blaine and made him even  _more_ emotional because Sam had noticed and felt the need to offer that small gesture of comfort. 

It was going to be a long day.

                   ____________________________________

He had gone into one of the bathrooms to change into his graduation gown and scrutinize himself in the mirrors over the sinks when he heard the door open, and reflected in the mirror he saw Kurt.

 "Hey, high school graduate.“ he said softly, coming over putting his hands on Blaine’s shoulders, then moving down to wrap his arms around his waist, rubbing gently over the growing swell of his stomach. 

"Don’t say that.” Blaine mumbled, fiddling with the front of the gown. “I’ve cried like three times already today.”

“Oh, hush. It’s a big day. You’re allowed to get emotional." 

"Yeah, but not like this.” Blaine sniffed. “Oh, God. Look at me. I’m a mess.”

Kurt leaned his head on Blaine’s shoulder, looked at them both in the mirror. “But a very cute mess.”

“Now, c'mon,” Kurt continue, taking Blaine’s hands and squeezing them in his own. “You need to go and graduate so we can start our inevitably fabulous life together with our child." 

               _______________________________________

The good thing about having a surname that began with the letter A was that you got to go first for most things that were in alphabetical order.

The bad thing about having a surname that began with the letter A is that since you were first, there was more of a chance that everyone would be staring at you as you crossed the stage to obtain your diploma. 

Standing in line, waiting and nervous, he realized that in the few seconds it would take him to cross the stage, that would be it. His entire high school career over. 

And then there was only life ahead of him. 

A life that would have Kurt, and their child, in it. 

Somehow that didn’t seem so bad when he really thought about it. No, he wasn’t going to college. No, he didn’t really have a plan beyond the next four months and the arrival of their baby. But he was with someone he loved, someone who loved him back, he had great friends and a supportive family. That was all he needed, right?

 _"Blaine Anderson!_ ”

This was it.

One, two, three, four, five, six steps and then he reached Principal Figgins. Took his diploma with a smile and shake of the hand. 

And then it was over. 

He went to stand by Artie, who had been before him, waited and watched whilst the rest of his friends got their diplomas; first Tina, then Sam and then Brittany. 

 It was a very surreal thing to watch. 

                __________________________________________

“Dude!” Sam shouted, coming up to him out of breath and smiling widely. “Doesn’t it feel good to have graduated? Like, we never have to come back to high school,  _ever._ It’s so cool!” He frowned slightly. “Aren’t you happy to be leaving this place? It kind of sucked, for all of us.”

“I don’t know, actually. It’s like - I have a lot of good memories here, you know? And bad ones, too, but mostly good ones." 

"I get it.” Sam said, and Blaine knew that he did. He’d helped him personally through those bad memories; in fact, it was because of him that he even got through them at all. “High school’s hard for most people. But we survived, right?" 

"Yeah,” Blaine mumbled noncommittally, but he had stopped listening. 

His graduation gown was thick and heavy and hung close to his body, and he was sweating, flushed and suddenly light-headed, too hot all over, but cold at the same time. He was dizzy and he couldn’t focus. 

“Whoa - you’re like, white as a ghost,” Sam suddenly, “are you okay?" 

Blaine tried to speak, but no noise came out, only something that was probably a groan, because Sam’s eyebrows knitted together tightly, an expression of concern. 

Then he staggered sideways, swaying dangerously, and Sam swore under his breath, quickly wrapping his arms under Blaine’s armpits to keep him upright as he looked around wildly for somewhere that he could maybe sit to catch his breath, because he looked like he might keel over any minute. 

Kurt. He had to get Kurt. But Sam didn’t know where he was - in the audience, presumably, waiting for Blaine to meet him. 

Blaine, who was currently leaning very heavily on Sam’s shoulder, pale and sweaty and just not looking very good at all. 

"Okay, Blaine? Blaine? You hear me, dude?” Sam shook him gently, gripping his shoulder. “You’re pretty sick so I’m going to see if I can get some help.”

But he didn’t seem to hear him.

_This is bad. This is very, very bad._

Quickly, Sam pulled out his cellphone and typed a quick text, for once not caring about the misspellings.  _U need 2 fnd Kurt. Blaine is sik. Need hlp._

Then he sent it to Tina, and hoped she’d see it.

____________________________________

Coming home to see Blaine graduate was like stepping back in time a year, when he himself had worn the red cap and gown and walked across that very stage to receive his diploma, a symbolic item of his freedom after four years of what could only be described as  _hell_.

As he watched Blaine do exactly that, he couldn’t help but feel proud. He’d sat next to Blaine’s mother during the ceremony and they’d shared a smile across the small space between them. 

Afterwards, he’d left Blaine to celebrate with his own friends whilst he mingled.

He spoke briefly to Mr Schue, who congratulated him on his success in New York, and was pounced on by Unique, who wanted to know all about his fabulous new life in the big city - and whether he thought the baby would be a boy or a girl (she hoped for a girl, because there was far too much testosterone wafting around for her own liking). Miss Pillsbury also offered her congratulations on his success and seemed to be genuinely happy that he had moved on in the world, perhaps because she knew intimately the troubles he had faced whilst still at school.

He was happy to be back at McKinley again, in a way. It was nostalgic, and there was an underlying sense of longing - he may have had some awful experiences here, but he’d also had some amazing ones. He had made friends for life, and had fallen in love. 

 

No matter what else had happened to him here, he couldn’t just simply erase that from his memory. 

Yes, there were definitely some bad and good things about William McKinley High School. But he thought that the good somehow outweighed the bad.

Lost in a reverie, or perhaps it was a daydream of memories gone by, he didn’t notice when Tina came rushing up to him, wide-eyed and holding out her cellphone. 

“Kurt! Kurt, you have to see this. Sam just texted me." 

 "Is something wrong?” he asked, but she didn’t appear to hear him; she thrust the phone under his nose wordlessly.

_U need 2 fnd Kurt. Blaine is sik. Need hlp._

Kurt was sure what little colour that there was in his pale face drained out of it in that moment. 

“Do you know anything?” he asked Tina suddenly.

“No. I only got this text a few minutes ago and came to find you straight away.”

“Do you know where he is?" 

Tina shook her head. 

"Ask Sam.” It came out like an order, though he hadn’t intended it to be; he winced at the sharpness in his voice. But he couldn’t help it. A ball of nerves was growing and tightening in his stomach. 

_If anything happened to the baby….._

No. He didn’t want to think like that. Besides, it might not be as bad as he was thinking. 

Tina cut into his thoughts. “They’re round the back, near the bleachers. At least, I think that’s what is says.” She squinted at her cellphone. “Sam’s spelling is awful.”

“He's  _dyslexic._ ” Kurt pointed out, rolling his eyes. Then the reality of the situation sobered him. “Tell him I’m on my way. It’s not far.”

            _________________________________________________

Although he could feel the hard bench underneath him and the warm solidity of Sam’s body, Blaine felt like he was floating several feet above where he sat, leaning on Sam and trying to remember how to draw air into his lungs. 

He’d never felt this bad. He was hot and cold at the same time, sweating and shivering, pain splitting his skull and making his blood pound in his ears. His whole body felt like a guitar string pulled far too tight, and through the haze in his brain he could only think of one thing. 

 _I don’t want to lose the baby_.

“Just keep breathing,” a voice was saying, a familiar voice. Sam. “Okay? Just keep doing that. Kurt’s coming - he’ll take you home, or to the hospital, or wherever you need to go.”

He tried to speak, but no sound came out; instead, a nauseous wave came over him, and he clamped his mouth shut, groaning quietly with the effort of stopping himself from vomiting. 

Sam was rubbing his back gently; it was soothing, and besides, his hips and lower back were aching like crazy. 

Blaine let his eyes drift closed, shutting out the light of the sun. He felt better, though only just, without the sun streaming in his eyes. 

At the back of his mind, he registered the sound of footsteps heavy on the grass, and a shadow came across the backs of his eyelids, no longer orange from the glare of the sun but a cool, soothing black. 

He wasn’t aware that he had his arms wrapped around his stomach until someone pulled them away, holding his hands in their own. 

“You’re so pale….” a second familiar voice muttered, just loud enough for Blaine to hear, and then he knew that it was Kurt. He could faintly smell hairspray and a sweet-scented cologne on the air. 

It made him want to press forward into Kurt’s embrace, but he was afraid he might pass out, or keel over, if he did. 

“Blaine,” Kurt spoke more firmly now. “Can you look at me for a minute? I want to talk to you. You look pretty bad so I’m going to take you to the hospital, okay?”

He struggled to open his eyes, but when he did, he saw Kurt, his own eyes wide and blue and concerned, and he saw anxiety and worry in them. 

“Okay.” When he spoke, his voice was a hoarse croak, and he winced, feeling the pounding in his head get worse. “The baby-”

“Will be fine, if we get you to the hospital.” It sounded like Kurt was trying to convince himself more than convince Blaine. 

“I’ll drive.” Sam cut in, and if Blaine had had any strength left, he would have smiled at him in gratitude. Instead he could only grip Kurt’s hands tightly with his own, shaking and damp as they were with sweat. 

He tried to think about the baby, to try and stay conscious for him or her; until they got to the hospital, at least. 

Trembling from head to foot, he allowed himself to be lifted from the bench by Sam and Kurt, who kept tight hold of him as he swayed suddenly, staggering on jelly-like legs and unable to hold his own weight. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” Kurt kept telling him softly. “You’ll be okay.”

He was aware of the sound of a car door opening, of being lead inside. It was cool inside, as the car had been kept out of the sun. 

Then he was slowly moved to lie down across the backseat, and the floppy blond hair he could see above him told him that he was lying with his head in Sam’s lap, who had taken hold of one of his shaking hands. 

The car started. And the last thing he heard was Kurt’s voice, telling him he was going to be okay, before he drifted into unconsciousness.

            __________________________________________

Kurt wrung his hands in his lap, waiting for the nurse to come out of Blaine’s hospital room. Sam had gone home; he’d call his dad later to come and pick him up. 

He could see the bulky edge of a sonogram machine through the small window next to the door. The screen was a rippling image of black and white.

They hadn’t let Kurt in to be with him while they did the sonogram.

The doctor who’d been called to examine Blaine had explained that that the cause of his distress was a combination of low blood sugar and high blood pressure. It was what had caused the rapid breathing, dizziness, headache and nausea that Kurt had given as his symptoms as they rushed Blaine, still unconscious, into an examination room. 

He hated waiting. He hated hospitals. He hated waiting  _in_  hospitals. 

He just wanted someone to tell him whether Blaine was okay or not - and if something, if anything, had happened to their unborn child.

The door opened, and the nurse came out, pulling off a pair of medical gloves. 

Kurt jumped up immediately. 

“I’m afraid we’ve detected some fetal abnormality on the sonogram. The baby is smaller than we would expect at this stage, although it’s still early in the pregnancy. I’ve called in Dr. Marshall, who practices at the nearest male pregnancy clinic, to give a second opinion, but it’s likely that Blaine is going to have to undertake an amniocentesis test, just to rule out any possibilities.”

Kurt felt his stomach drop. He’d heard of that test - it was a test that they used when they suspected an illness or condition that could be detected while the baby was still in the womb. It was used to test for things like Downs’ Syndrome.

The shock must have shown on his face, because the nurse smiled and put her hand on his shoulder gently. 

“It’s just a routine procedure. Blaine will be kept in overnight, and he still has to consent to the test. I suggest you two talk it over between yourselves before making any decisions.”

Kurt nodded, feeling numb. 

 _Routine procedure_.

But what if the results came back positive, and there was something wrong with their baby? Could they handle it? He’d always admired parents who had kids with disabilities - he could only imagine how difficult it must be for them - but could he really be one of those parents himself? Could Blaine?

Would their relationship survive something like that?

He pressed the heels of his hands, hard, into his eyes. First thing’s first, he had to make sure that Blaine was alright. Then they could decide on how to proceed. 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

“Now,” Burt Hummel announced to the sitting room of the house, which was occupied by Carole, and Kurt, who sat biting his lip with his hands in his lap, “are you going to tell me what this is all about, or do I have to find it out for myself?”

Kurt had been nervous all the way home from the hospital. He knew his dad would want to know why he was there, and why he never told him he was going there. 

He also knew that he had no choice in the matter of whether he wanted to tell him the truth.

If he was honest, he was afraid. Afraid of how his dad, how Carole might react when he told them that in a few short months, they would be grandparents. 

But with Blaine being monitored at the hospital and concern about the health and wellbeing of their baby, he needed someone to lean on - someone he could talk to, as a support system. Someone that wasn’t Blaine. 

“Kurt?” his dad prompted, firmly but not unkindly. 

“You know that Blaine and I are together again now,” Kurt began, “but there’s something that I  _haven’t_  told you, and it’s something important and I don’t want you to freak out when you hear it.”

 

“You’re not getting married, are you? Because, Kurt, as much as I support the two of you reconnecting I really don’t think this is the time nor the situation to get married in, not after what happened with Finn and Rachel." 

"We're  _not_  getting married.” Kurt replied, but he had to admit the words made something flutter in his chest - perhaps they could. Not right now, but a few years from now. 

“Then what is it?” Carole prompted. 

Kurt took a deep breath. “Blaine’s pregnant. Four and a half months, actually. We’re going to be parents.”

Saying it like that -  _We’re going to be parents_  - made it seem so much more real. He’d seen their baby on sonograms, had felt it grow under Blaine’s warm skin, but saying it in those terms, in terms of being parents, well….it made his heart swell in his chest. 

Carole was the first to react.

“That’s - well, it’s unexpected, but I can hardly say anything myself since I was barely in my twenties when I had Finn and you’re not much younger! That’s great, Kurt. I’m happy for you. But you seem concerned?”

“He had to go to the hospital today. High blood pressure and low blood sugar, the doctor said. They’re worried the baby might not be developing as it should be so they’re going to do some tests." 

Throughout this exchange, Burt said nothing. 

His dad stared at him, open-mouthed. He seemed to have forgotten how to speak. Slowly, he swallowed and worked his jaw for a few moments, and then found his voice.

"Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“How long have you known?" 

"A few months. We wanted to keep it private until Blaine graduated.”

Burt worked his jaw again, falling silent. Kurt’s heart hammered in his chest. 

“And - and who else knows?”

“His mom, everyone in Glee club, and Rachel and Santana, because they figured it out so I had no choice but to tell them.” Kurt explained. 

Silence again.

“Dad?”

“Just - just give me a minute, to, y'know, process this.” Burt looked extremely uncomfortable; Kurt’s heart hammered twice as fast. “It’s sorta unexpected, y'know?”

“You’re freaking out.” Kurt deadpanned. “I know you are, I can tell.”

“No, I’m not! I’m just,” he searched for the right word, “processing. Yeah. It’s not every day your nineteen-year-old son tells you he’s going to be a dad, y'know.”

“Well, when you put it like that….” Kurt forced out a watery laugh, tears collecting at the corners of his eyes. “I expected you to start yelling about me about responsibility and duty.”

“I’m not saying I’m okay with this. This is a  _kid_  we’re talking about Kurt, and you’re barely one yourself. I still think of you holding tea parties out on the lawn with your toys, pretending to drink tea out of those little tiny cups you used to love collecting." 

Kurt felt his throat burning with oncoming tears he looked at Carole, who smiled back at him encouragingly. 

"But if this is what you want - and I mean, what you  _really_ ,  _really_  want - then I suppose a congratulations wouldn’t hurt. So, congratulations.”

That was it; Kurt jumped up from the sofa and flung himself at his dad, wrapping his arms around him tightly and pressing his face into the familiar flannel-and-car-oil smell that he associated with his father and with his childhood.

“I’m gonna be a grandpa.” Burt said aloud, mostly to himself. Then he frowned. “That sounds weird." 

                ______________________________________

When his father walked into the room, Blaine pretended to be asleep.

It wasn’t that he was avoiding him. He simply wanted to postpone the inevitable conversation that he would have to have for as long as possible, because he knew from experience that serious conversations with his dad didn’t usually go over very well. 

His dad was…. _uptight_ _._ There was no other word for it. He knew he meant well, and that he tried, and that he cared about him, but more often than not his well-meaning actions went astray.

One example that came to mind as he forced himself to keep his eyes closed was the summer his dad had asked him to rebuild an old car with him. 

That hadn’t gone too well. 

Blaine stayed perfectly still while his father’s footsteps reached the edge of his bed, his shoes squeaking on the perfectly-buffed, sterilized floor. The patch of skin where the gauze holding in his IV itched, and he fought hard to stop himself from revealing himself and scratching it vigorously. 

There was a scraping sound, and the creak of plastic as his father sat down in one of the chairs that the hospital provided in the room for visitors. 

 _He’s not going to leave_. He could see that now; he could pretend to be asleep all afternoon and all night, and he would swear his father would still be sitting there. 

He wasn’t someone who gave up easily. Sort of like Blaine himself, really. 

"C'mon, Blaine, let up. You were never a good liar and I know for a fact that you’re only pretending to be asleep so you won’t have to talk to me." 

This took Blaine by surprise; his eyes flew open, though he stayed still for a few more moments. Just a few seconds before he would have to face the inevitable. 

"You’re gonna ignore me. I can’t say that I’m totally surprised by that.” He went on. “Look, if it helps, I’m not going to yell at you or lecture you about responsibility. I just want to talk.”

At that, he decided that it wasn’t worth postponing it any longer. Blaine turned slowly, sitting up against the pillows.

“So talk." 

"I’m not going to pretend to be overjoyed by your…news,” his dad said. “To be honest, when your Mom told me, I freaked out. This just doesn't  _happen_ , and especially not to someone I knew, hell, my own  _child_. But then I thought about it and I realized it was time I probably let you do things for yourself instead of me just - telling you what  _I_  thought you should do. I’ve done that a lot and it hasn’t won me any favours with you, and I regret that, Blaine, I really do.”

“I’m scared." 

He hadn’t meant it to come out in a whisper; it just did. It echoed horribly in the sparsely-decorated room, a rasp alongside the beep of the monitor that measured the baby’s heartbeat via a small device that was strapped across his stomach under his sweater.

 _The baby_. His hands went to his stomach as a knee-jerk response, his palms wide over the curve of it. He rubbed absently over the spot where he could feel the baby shifting around inside him, too faint yet for anyone else to be able to feel but himself.

"Your Mom said that they think - the doctors think - that there’s something wrong with your baby?" 

Blaine nodded. "It’s small - too small, considering I’m almost at five months. They’re doing a test tomorrow to see if there are any - abnormalities. Like disabilities.” He rubbed his hand over his face, pressed his fingers into watering eyes. 

He didn’t want to cry in front of his father.

“It’ll be fine, Blaine.”

“You don’t know that!” He didn’t notice himself shouting, his voice rising. “You don’t know that this baby’s going to come out healthy. What if it doesn’t? What are Kurt and I supposed to do then?”

“What you would do anyway. Take care of your child.” His dad sighed. “If it’s any consolation, I know how you feel.”

“You do?” Blaine was skeptical. “I doubt it.”

“Before you were born, your Mom and I were also told that there were complications and that you might not be born one hundred percent healthy. That you might have birth defects. This was because of what she went through with your brother - the doctors were worried that the lasting effects of that trauma would have affect you.” He paused, folding and unfolding his hands in his lap. “But you were fine. There was nothing wrong, and your Mom and I had worried for nothing.”

“What if I’m the exception?" 

"You won’t be.”

“But what if I  _am_?” he asked again, fear gripping at his heart like a vice. Because there was a 50% chance that the results from that test would come back positive. Because there was a 50% chance that their baby’s health could be in danger.

“Then I’ll do what any good father would do and I will support you. And don’t look at me like that. I’m trying my best here, Blaine. I know I’ve slipped up a couple times-”

“More than a couple.” Blaine muttered to himself, smoothing his hand over his stomach.

“-but I’m trying. Can’t you at least give me some credit for that?”

“I suppose. I kind of need all the support I can get right now because I’m kind of freaking out.”

“You want me to get your Mom?" 

"Yes, please.” Blaine whispered.

                     _____________________________________

Blaine’s hand shook when Kurt gripped it tightly, both their palms clammy with sweat. 

He tried not to pay too close attention to the rustle of plastic as the friendly nurse who had been monitoring Blaine overnight removed a long, thin needle from its packaging.

Blaine hated needles, and Kurt knew that. He squeezed his hand to let him know that he was there - not that he didn’t know, but it was more of a reassurance to say  _I’m here if you need me_. 

“You ready, sweetie?” the nurse asked, smiling. “It’ll only take a few seconds, I promise. It’ll be just like any other shot you get at the hospital.”

 _Except this one will determine the health of our unborn child_ , Kurt thought.

“Just get it over with.” Blaine muttered, trying not to make it clear just how nervous he was. He bit his lip, hard, as a distraction from the fact that the nurse was rolling up his sweater and swabbing a small patch of skin.

“I love you.” Kurt leaned forward to murmur in his ear. It made him feel better, but only slightly. He was all too aware of the light bouncing off the steely tip of the needle that he could see out of the corner of his eye.

He shut them tightly, swallowing hard. The glare of the overhead lights burned the inside of his eyelids bright orange. He could hear Kurt breathing close to him, hear the beat of his own heart fast in his chest.

“Lay very still for me. It’ll only be a second.” The nurse said.

The prick of the needle felt like a gunshot, or so it seemed at the time. A thin, piercing pain went through his skin, and he bit down on his tongue to stop himself from crying out.

Those few seconds felt like a lifetime, as the nurse drew a small sample of amniotic fluid that would be sent away to be tested and analyzed for anything out of the ordinary.

Kurt never let go of his hand. 

“There.” The nurse said, removing the needle and taping a small pad of gauze over the skin to stop it from bleeding from the puncture wound the needle had left behind. “All done.”

 _All done_. As if it was that easy. There was still the results to be had, and whatever consequences those would bring with them. 

“I strongly recommend that you rest for at least a few hours. After that, we can get you discharged and you’re free to go home, since your blood pressure and glucose levels have returned to normal and have been consistent overnight.”

“When can we expect the results?” Kurt asked, his voice high with nervousness.

“In a couple of weeks. I’ll let Dr. Marshall know when the results are in and she’ll arrange an appointment for you at her clinic.”

“Thank you.”

The nurse left, leaving Blaine and Kurt alone in the room. 

“What do you think our chances are of the baby being healthy?” Blaine asked. Kurt could  _hear_  the desperate need for reassurance in his voice; he knew what Blaine wanted to hear. 

“I think we have a very good chance of having a beautiful, healthy baby.” Kurt said. “Honestly." 

Blaine smiled a watery smile. 

"Good. Because I honestly don’t know what to think right now.”

“Listen to me.” Kurt said. “Our baby is going to be  _fine_."He pressed a kiss to Blaine’s forehead. "Trust me.”

“I do. I do trust you." 

"That’s good enough for me.” Kurt said, before moving in to kiss him full on the mouth, soft lips and tongue soothing the bite marks that Blaine had left in his own bottom lip. 

Perhaps it would be so difficult after all. 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

The next two weeks felt a lot like living on a knife edge. 

The New Directions went to LA for Nationals - and came second. It was a huge blow; they had all expected to come home with a second 1st place trophy, but it didn’t happen. 

Sam and Tina were crushed, and Blaine suspended his own concerns for the time being in order to comfort them through several movie marathons and plenty of junk food (he’d started craving anything greasy and bad for you not long after he’d been released from the hospital and thought it was as good a time as any to indulge).

But they too both knew that he had his own things to think about, and Tina had sniffed more than once that she felt bad for getting so upset about a showchoir competition when there were more important things to worry about. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he’d insisted, handing Tina yet another tissue. “I’m fine." 

But he wasn’t. Not really. Another day gone was another day closer to getting the results of the test, and he had never been so afraid of getting a result. Not even when he had taken the initial pregnancy test that had started it all had he been this afraid. 

 

He couldn’t even look forward to the fact that he would soon be at five months and over halfway through his pregnancy. He was just too afraid, and nervous, of what might be on those test results that could possibly change his and Kurt’s lives forever - even more than they already had been changed. 

Sam especially had been incredibly supportive - more than Blaine had ever expected him to be. He listened when he wanted to talk, and didn’t push when he didn’t. He told jokes and did his best impressions to make Blaine laugh and forget about all the bad things for a while. He wondered aloud at length about how early was too early to introduce the baby to Star Wars and the X-Men, or if he could read his comic books out loud so that it could recognize his voice.

In short, Blaine wasn’t sure he would have gotten through those two weeks without Sam. Kurt had gone back to New York for a week, to make arrangements for the apartment now that he was coning home for the summer, and it was hard only being able to speak to him on the phone or through Skype.

He needed more than just a voice at the end of the line right now. 

                      _________________________________

"Are you okay?”

The question took Kurt by surprise; he paused in his packing, a purple shirt suspended in the air where he was holding it, and turned to look in the direction of the door.

Santana was leaning against the frame, arms folded and looking unusually concerned. At least she wasn’t scowling. 

“Berry told me about what happened with Blaine. That there might be something wrong with your kid." 

When Kurt didn’t say anything, she crossed the room in three strides of her long legs, and came to sit on the edge of the bed.

"You going to talk, or am I just gonna sit here while you gape at me like a goldfish?”

Kurt threw the shirt back onto the bed and pushed his hands through his hair, making it stand on end in the front. 

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Look, I'm  _trying_  to be a friend here. I don’t do this very often so you might as well take it while it’s here because once I leave this room, the offer of a shoulder to cry on while I do my best not to make a vicious comment about you snivelling all over my breasts will expire.”

Putting his head in his hands, he admitted defeated and slumped onto the edge of the bed, not caring whether the shirt he was wearing wrinkled or not. He’d iron it later. 

“It’s like….I’m trying my best to stay strong for Blaine, but I honestly don’t know what I’ll do if the results of that test come back positive and - and our child has an illness or a condition that could limit the chances they have of being given a full life.” Once he started, he couldn’t stop; the words came in waves, torrent after torrent of words that had been building up inside him. “That they won’t be able to play with other kids or do the normal stuff that everyone else does because they’re sick, and I know that it’s not my fault and that I can’t possibly have foreseen it or prevented it but it’s still there, y'know?”

“It’s like a vicious cycle. Every time something goes well in my life, something else comes along and craps all over it.”

Santana’s face softened. “You want my advice?”

“Are you offering?”

She considered this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“It couldn’t hurt, I suppose. I need an objective opinion.” He rubbed his hands down his face. 

Santana smoothed down her skirt and folded her legs neatly, looking important. “Whatever happens, it’s not gonna stop you from loving this kid, is it?”

“No.”

“And it’s not gonna stop you from being the best dad you could possibly be, right?”

“No. No, it’s not.”

“You have the right to be scared. I would be too, if it were my kid. It’s a scary thing knowing that you might have to watch a kid suffer that way. But if you be the best parent that you can be, then it won’t matter. And I  _know_  that you and Blaine will be amazing parents, and I’m not just saying that because I like you. I actually believe it, and so does everyone else.”

“Thanks, Santana.” And he meant it. When she wasn’t cutting people down with her insults and attitude and not busy hating the world, Santana was okay. 

“You’re welcome, Hummel. Savour it. I may be Auntie Snixx, but I’m not an Agony Aunt in one of those sad, sad advice columns that Berry reads all the time.”

But she was smiling as she spoke.

                 _______________________________________

Kurt came home from New York on Thursday morning. 

On Thursday afternoon, Blaine received a phone call that his mom answered (he had been sleeping at the time). 

It was Dr Marshall - the results of the amniocentesis test were in and she wanted to arrange an appointment for him and Kurt to come and get them.

The appointment was arranged for the following Tuesday, marking Blaine’s twenty-week milestone in his pregnancy. 

He felt as though he couldn’t breathe, and it had taken Kurt’s gentle touch and soothing voice to calm him down and convince him that everything was going to be fine.

                ___________________________________________ 

Tuesday came much too quickly, and Blaine didn’t know whether it was morning sickness or fear of what was to come that made him cough up what little he’d managed to eat before Kurt arrived so that they could go to the clinic. 

He brushed his teeth twice and avoided kissing Kurt directly on the mouth, opting instead for a soft kiss on his cheek. Kurt gripped his hand the entire drive to Dr. Marshall’s clinic, rubbing his thumb soothingly over his knuckles, the way he always did when Blaine was worried or nervous or just needed some comfort. 

But he knew that Kurt was just as anxious as he was, and he squeezed his hand as they pushed open the door and went into the now-familiar waiting room, with its blue walls and ticking clock - counting down the minutes and the seconds until they would know exactly what the test results said, and what the consequences, if any, would be. 

“Would you think me a horrible boyfriend if I just ran out of the room right now and didn’t come back?” Kurt asked, his face pink with anxiety and worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. His hands clenched and unclenched on either side of the seat. 

“I wouldn’t blame you.” Blaine mumbled, fixing his gaze on a part of the wall in front of him, on the opposite side of the room. “I kind of want to do that myself.”

“Blaine Anderson? Dr. Marshall is ready for you now." 

Blaine’s eyes flew wide with fear, and Kurt took his hand. It was damp with sweat, just like Kurt’s was. 

"Whatever happens,” Kurt said, as they reached the door to Dr. Marshall’s office and he knocked politely, “I love you.”

“Thank you. I love you, too.”

Dr. Marshall greeted them with a friendly but sympathetic smile. She asked Blaine whether he’d had any more morning sickness - he replied in the affirmative - and if he was feeling better after his time in the hospital. He said that he was. 

“If you’d like to take a seat,” she said, indicating two chairs in front of her small desk on the opposite side of the room from the examination bed, “we’ll have a look at the results of your amniocentesis.”

Blaine nodded numbly, dropping himself into the seat next to Kurt while Dr. Marshall reached for an envelope on her desk and opened it.  

She looked up and down the piece of paper several times, reading and re-reading its contents carefully, the way only doctors did. There was a tiny furrow between her eyebrows, but whether that was because she was concentrating or because of something else, Blaine couldn’t tell. 

She put the sheet of paper down. And broke into a smile.

“Good news.” She said, folding her hands in front of her on the desk. “Your results came back negative. You have a perfectly healthy baby and there’s absolutely nothing to worry about.”

Kurt’s arms were around him in a tight, bone-crushing embrace before he could even process the words; he could do nothing except hug him back, and twice as hard, as at the front of his mind was only one thing -  _their baby was perfectly fine_. Perfectly fine. Healthy and  _perfectly fine_.

He didn’t realize he was crying until he felt the cotton of Kurt’s shirt damp under his cheek.

Kurt pulled away first, wiping fiercely at his own eyes and laughing - he had missed the sound of Kurt’s laugh. “Sorry. You probably think we’re being silly.”

“Of course not!” Dr. Marshall smiled. “It’s a scary thing when you’re faced with a prospect like this, and good news should always be celebrated. Don’t feel silly, you’re allowed to be happy because you have a healthy baby. After all, it’s what every parent-to-be wants to hear.” _  
_

She went on. “I do advise, however, that you keep an eye on your blood sugar levels and make sure you’re getting enough rest and nutrition, because it won’t be long before you hit your third trimester and your body’s going to need the extra energy.”

He nodded, but Blaine wasn’t worrying about all of that now. He was too happy - so  _relieved_  - to let anything like that bother him. All he cared about was that there was nothing wrong with their baby. 

And Kurt was thinking the exact same thing. 

            ____________________________________________

Spending time with Blaine had always been one of Kurt’s favourite things in the world.

Spending time with Blaine has his boyfriend  _was_  Kurt’s favourite thing in the world.

He’d forgotten exactly how much he’d missed being intimate with him, wrapped around him on the couch with his cheek resting on the top of his head, taking advantage of the fact that Blaine was a few inches shorter than him and fit against his body in just the right way. 

They were sat like this now, curled up on the old worn couch in the Hudson-Hummel residence, Blaine’s eyelids drooping as he drifted in an out of sleep against Kurt’s chest. They basked in the glow of their good news, perfectly content.

Kurt could have stayed like that forever. 

One arm was wrapped around Blaine’s waist, the other curved around his pronounced bump, hand splayed wide and rubbing gently with this thumb, just feeling the warm skin where their child grew. 

Blaine shuffled closer, pressing his cheek to Kurt’s chest and letting his eyelids flutter closed. A few stray curls around his temples tickled Kurt’s cheek and jaw, soft as feathers. 

It was like this, relaxed and completely at peace, that he felt most at home. 

Not for the first time, he wondered why he’d waited so long to put things right with Blaine, why he’d been so stubborn, so adamant that it wasn’t going to happen. 

 _“We’re just friends_.” He’d said that at the wedding, over and over again, and he’d chosen to ignore the look in everyone’s eyes that said,  _“Really? Are you sure about that?_ ”

Stubborn. That was one word for it. There were many others, no doubt. 

“What are you thinking about?”

Blaine’s voice broke through his musings, gentle with sleepiness. 

“Nothing. Everything. You. How stubborn I was not to realize that you were what I wanted.” Kurt smiled. “The usual.”

“The usual.” Blaine repeated, smiling back. 

There was a pause, not unpleasant, between them. Kurt listened to the sound of Blaine’s breathing and watched the rise and fall of his chest, rubbing his palm wide across his stomach. 

Then he felt a nudge, a bump against his hand, gentle enough that he thought he had imagined it.

And then it happened again, harder this time. 

And then it happened a third time, and this time, Blaine was staring at him, eyes wide and shining, and it took a moment for Kurt to comprehend what it was that had just happened. 

But then he  _did_  understand, and he felt his heart skip a beat inside his chest. 

The baby was  _kicking_ , right up against his hand. He could feel it, irregular bumps against his palm, and of course Blaine could feel it too. After weeks of only Blaine being able to feel it move, Kurt could finally feel it for himself.

“Looks like someone’s making their presence known.” Kurt laughed, all smiles, as he pressed both hands to Blaine’s stomach to feel the baby kick. “Do you think it can tell who we are? Like, our voices?”

“I don’t think so. Not yet, anyway, but soon. Really soon.”

“This is really happening, isn’t it? Like,  _really_  happening?” Kurt asked, completely in awe. He was so happy he felt as if his whole body might float away, up into the sky like a helium balloon. 

“Yeah.” Blaine sighed, smiling. “It is.”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

When Kurt opened the front door of the house, carrying several bags of groceries that he had offered to go get for Carole because she had to work and they were running low on practically everything, he was greeted by a very familiar sight.

Since the baby started kicking over a week ago, Blaine had been quick to share the news - and of course, apart from Kurt, Sam had been the first one to know. 

And, being Blaine’s best friend, he’d been at the house almost every day after school under the guise of doing homework or wanting to hang out, but Kurt knew that he was just as excited as they were that the baby had started kicking. 

Which was why the two of them were sitting on the couch when Kurt walked in, Sam grinning with his big hand on the curve of Blaine’s stomach. He looked up when Kurt came in.

“I’ve been trying to get the baby to kick when it hears my voice.” Sam said proudly. 

 

“You know it doesn’t work like that, right? It’ll happen when it happens. Though it’s mostly when I’m relaxed or just about to fall asleep.” Blaine replied. 

“Maybe it’ll help if I sing?” Sam said. “Man, Kurt’s so  _lucky_  to get to experience all of this. I got so jealous of my dad when my mom was pregnant with Stacie and Stevie ‘cause he was always doing stuff for her and didn’t really pay attention to me.”

Kurt sat down next to Blaine on the couch, taking his hand and resting his head on his shoulder. “Maybe if you’re lucky we’ll keep you around after he or she is born on uncle duties.” he said. 

“Really? That would be so  _cool_! I’d be an awesome uncle.” Sam said seriously. “I’d do loads of cool stuff and…stuff.”

“Well, you have plenty of time to prepare because I’m not due for another four months, so take your time." 

But what Kurt had said had got him thinking. Sam was his best friend. Except for Kurt, there was no-one else he felt closer to that wasn’t his mom or his grandpa, who had unfortunately died just before he’d started high school. 

And maybe Sam  _would_  be the best candidate for a pseudo-uncle. In fact, he knew he would be. He was great with his younger brother and sister - great with all kids, in fact, from what he’d seen and heard. 

Sam had been there for him at a time when he’d felt like he’d had absolutely nothing and no-one. He cared about him and trusted him completely. 

So why not?

              ______________________________________

If there was one thing being pregnant had taught him, it was the value of sleep.

Now that he was close to the six-month mark, he found himself constantly exhausted, and as a result, he had taken to napping frequently, sometimes two or three times during the day. It took the edge off until he needed to sleep again, and once or twice he had to catch himself before he fell asleep right at the dinner table, too tired to sit and eat. 

He spent more time sleeping than he did anything else, and he wondered whether that was normal for someone in his situation. 

Kurt certainly wondered whether it was, and he had expressed his anxiety about Blaine’s constant tiredness several times.

"Are you sure you should be this tired?” he’d asked when Blaine had yawned for the fifth time in an hour. “Maybe we should talk to the doctor." 

Blaine smiled through another yawn. "I’m fine, Kurt, really. It’s probably just the baby draining all my energy because it needs to grow and be healthy.”

“But you need to stay healthy, too. I don’t want to have to go through that again if you get sick." 

"I’ll be fine.” he’d reassured him. “I just need to,” another wide-mouthed yawn, “sleep." 

And then promptly curled against Kurt’s shoulder and did exactly that, eyelids fluttering as he dreamed. 

                 _________________________________________

"Hey, Kurt, you should totally see what me and Blaine came up with!” Sam said excitedly from his position on the couch, eating out of a bowl of chips that sat between him and Blaine. “It’s so cool!”

Kurt eyed the bowl of chips. “Doritos?”

“Cool Ranch.” Sam nodded. “My favourite.”

He took one and sat next to Blaine on the couch. “So what’s this that you’ve discovered?”

Blaine and Sam looked at each other with identical grins. 

“Watch this.” Blaine said, reaching for the bowl of chips and carefully balancing it on the roundest part of his stomach, just above his navel. 

“What’s supposed to happen?” Kurt asked, confused. 

“Just wait!" 

Kurt kept his eyes on the bowl. Nothing happened.

He gave Blaine and Sam a skeptical look that he hoped wasn’t too unkind. 

” _Wait_.“ Sam insisted. "Trust me.”

And then, in the blink of an eye, the bowl was tipped off his stomach and onto the cushions, spilling the Doritos over the cushions. 

Kurt could only stare.

“Did - did the baby just-?” he spluttered, unable to get the words out, before his face split into a wide smile. “That's  _amazing_ , oh my God -  _Blaine_  - that’s incredible!”

His hands went to Blaine’s stomach, pressing, feeling the small but strong kicks beneath his skin. “How long have you known about this?”

“Sam and I were experimenting, to see if putting things on my stomach would get the baby to kick.” Blaine smiled. “And it does. It was kicking the TV remote earlier, like it was playing with it. It was amazing to watch.”

“Okay, you have  _got_  to start telling me when things like this happen.” Kurt said. “I don’t want to miss any more things like this.”

“Sorry.” Sam said, through a mouthful of Doritos. “I keep stealing your thunder, like Rachel did to Monica in  _Friends._ ”

“Since when do you watch  _Friends_?” Blaine asked incredulously.

“When we were staying in that motel when we lost our house, it had a really old TV and it was the only thing it showed. I watched all ten seasons on re-runs.” He explained, matter-of-factly, and looking rather pleased with himself. “I don’t just like superhero movies and  _Avatar_.”

“You never cease to amaze me, Sam Evans.”

Sam smiled, then looked confused. “That’s a good thing, right?”

           __________________________________________

“Oh, honey, we have  _got_  to see if we can get you anything so you’re not so tired all the time.” Kurt said, pouting slightly, as Blaine rubbed at his eyes and yawned, twice, eyes drooping and forehead crinkled with oncoming sleep. He sat on the edge of the bed, and handed Blaine a tall glass. “I got you your warm milk.”

“Ooh, thankyou!” Blaine sat up a little, taking the glass from Kurt and sipping appreciatively, closing his eyes and sighing. He leaned back against the pillows. “That tastes like heaven. I wasn’t a fan of milk before I got pregnant but now I want to drink it all the time.”

Kurt slipped under the duvet, sliding next to the warmth of Blaine’s body. “I told you warm milk was delicious.”

“That you did.”

“You also practically gave Rachel and Mercedes the idea that the girls should play on the football team.” Kurt pointed out.

Blaine grimaced. “They don’t know that was me, do they? The rest of the girls, I mean. I know Tina got hurt and I kind of feel like it’s my fault because I indirectly told them to do it.”

“They’ve probably forgotten all about it.”

“Doesn’t stop me from feeling guilty." 

Kurt pecked him on the cheek. "I gotta use the bathroom. Drink your milk.”

Blaine watched him cross the room and go out into the hallway, following the line of his long legs in his sleep sweats. Why did Kurt have to have such long, graceful legs? 

Meanwhile he, Blaine, had short legs that most certainly weren’t graceful. And he would only become more un-graceful (was that even a word?) as he got bigger and had to resort to waddling instead of walking. 

He really wasn’t looking forward to waddling. Even if Kurt told him that he looked perfectly fine. 

Which he would.

He looked down, sipping his warm milk, at where the buttons on his pyjama shirt were already straining across his stomach, making a mental note to get new ones as soon as possible because these wouldn’t fit before long. 

Maybe he could ask Kurt if he could borrow one of his own shirts to wear to bed, instead. The idea of wearing Kurt’s clothes was strangely comforting and titillating to him; he’d always had this fantasy that when he got a boyfriend, he’d wear his clothes.

And wearing Kurt’s clothes when he was pregnant had the added appeal of being so very  _domestic_ ; like they were really living together in their own apartment, starting a family the way other, older, married couples did.

_Marriage_. 

Marriage was definitely something he had been thinking about. Before they broke up, he and Kurt had talked about it, in purely hypothetical terms, but they’d had a very real resonance with both of them even if they wouldn’t admit it to the other. 

Being married to Kurt….would be a dream. It would be like  _living_  in a dream; it would be everything he had ever wanted. 

But he didn’t know how Kurt felt, now, after all that had happened between them. Would he want to consider marriage again, someday?

He was drawn from his thoughts by the movement of the bed as Kurt returned and slipped back in, pressing close. He wasn’t sure how Burt and Carole felt about them sharing a bed; perhaps they felt it was a little too late to making those kinds of rules now, like locking the stable door after the horse had bolted. 

Kurt gravitated towards Blaine’s warmth, smelling of toothpaste and lotion and coconut shampoo, and Blaine inhaled deeply, the smell that was purely Kurt, though without the signature whiff of hairspray that floated around him during the day. 

“You’re so warm.” Kurt murmured, stretching out like a cat before settling down, curved to Blaine’s side. He had become much more affectionate since they had got back together, more willing to touch and caress and hold. But Blaine definitely wasn’t complaining. 

Draining the rest of the glass in one satisfying gulp, he put it on the nightstand and burrowed down under the duvet, the mattress of the bed surprisingly comfortable despite his aching hips and back. 

Kurt was already draped across the space on his side, his head inches from Blaine’s shoulder. His hand rested just under the curve of Blaine’s stomach, as if he had reached out to put his hand over it before he had fallen asleep.

Even in sleep, Kurt was being protective of their child. 

Feeling his eyelids droop in the dim light from the lamp on the nightstand, he reached over the edge of the bed to switch it off, plunging the room into darkness, and he let himself succumb to sleep also.

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

The scale had to be wrong. 

It  _had_  to be. 

Blaine blinked several times, then looked at the number displayed on the small digital panel again. 

But no. There it was, in clearly-shown black digits.

In just over two weeks - since he had last weighed himself - he’d gained 11lbs. 

 _11._  

Staring down at his mom’s bathroom scales, he swallowed hard to keep himself from crying. What had he done to deserve  _this_? 

He just hadn’t expected to gain so much weight in such a short space of time. Sure, at 22 weeks pregnant he wasn’t exactly going to be light, but this was such a shock that he had to blink rapidly, pushing back the tears burning behind his eyes. 

He looked down at himself, as if trying to figure out where exactly he’d gained the weight. His waist was definitely thicker, his pants tighter around his hips - not that they weren’t tight everywhere nowadays - and if he looked really hard, he could see the beginnings of extra width around his thighs, too. 

 _Great_.  _Just great._

As if it sensed he was upset, the baby  suddenly kicked, right in the center of his stomach.

“I hope you know that you’re the reason for this.” He murmured in the general direction of his stomach, reaching up to cup and rub the protruding curve gently. 

Maybe this wasn’t such a big deal as his hormones were telling him it was. Maybe no-one would even notice. Maybe it’d be fine. 

      ________________________________________________

They were lounging on Kurt’s wide, comfortable bed, kissing slowly and just  _feeling_ ; soft cotton and rougher denim, smooth bare skin, and the hot, slightly damp feel of one another’s lips.

Kurt was being extra-gentle, holding him as though he might break as he bent his head to press feather-light kisses to his throat, tracing a damp path down to where his neck met his shoulder and back up again to his mouth. 

 _This_ , he thought,  _this is something I could easily do forever_. He would never tire of kissing Kurt; he had missed it terribly when they had broken up. 

They continued like this for a few minutes, not speaking, just listening to the sound of one another’s breathing and the slight smack of damp lips. Blaine could smell Kurt’s cologne and a faint whiff of hairspray, a smell he remembered well and easily lost himself in now. 

Kurt moved his hands from the tops of Blaine’s arms, gripping his forearms and squeezing gently, making Blaine gasp into his mouth in surprise at the pressure, before moving them to cover his own where they rested on Kurt’s waist. He never stopped kissing him, not once, and Blaine didn’t want him to, either. 

But then Kurt pulled Blaine’s hands from his waist and wrapped them around his back, shifting closer and pressing his warm, solid chest against Blaine’s own; the heat was electrifying, sending shivers down his spine and, instinctively, he moved to hook one leg over Kurt’s, so that they were pressed together in one smooth line from chest to toe. 

The new position heightened any and all sensations; he could feel Kurt’s heart beating right against his own, and the heavy warmth of Kurt’s body made him feel….well, it made him feel save. Protected. And so very, very loved. 

“Is this okay?” Kurt breathed, pulling away for a few moments. “I’m not - hurting you, am I?”

“No. No, this is fine. I could do this all day.” Blaine replied, just as out of breath. 

“Good.” Kurt said softly, smiling before dipping down to press tiny kisses to Blaine’s neck and to pull the fabric of his shirt aside to do the same to his shoulder and collarbone. Blaine gasped and whined, humming in pleasure as Kurt applied pressure, sucking gently on the skin to leave a red mark. 

“I missed this,” Kurt said, his voice muffled by Blaine’s skin, “so much.” He nosed along the line of his collarbone, and his breath tickled. 

“We have plenty of -  _ah -_ time.” Blaine gasped as Kurt resumed sucking marks into his skin, leaving the red imprint of his lips and tongue behind. “Mmm. God, I didn’t realize my skin would be so  _sensitive_.”

“D'you want me to stop?” Kurt asked. 

“ _Oh_  - no, no. Don’t stop. Keep going. It feels good." 

Kurt’s hands were scrabbling over his chest, nails raking over the fabric in an effort to touch Blaine  _everywhere._ He felt the hard nubs of his nipples where they stood out against his shirt, the shape and dip of his ribs and the slope of his belly where it rounded out, perfect and smooth against his hands. 

 Blaine suddenly felt self-conscious. He loved the way it felt to have Kurt’s hands on him, but he couldn’t help but panic - what if Kurt noticed he’d gained weight? Would he say anything? 

Kurt seemed to realize that something was up, because he pulled away slightly and frowned. 

"Is something wrong?”

 _I’m fat_ , he wanted to say.  _I’m fat and you won’t want to touch me any more_. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell Kurt. It’d make him look pathetic. 

So shook his head and closed his eyes, letting Kurt resume his sucking and kissing, and tried to forget about anything except the feel of his body and the warmth of his skin.

               _____________________________________

Kurt knew that Blaine was avoiding him. 

He had twice cancelled their plans to meet for lunch, and hadn’t been to the house in a few days when he would usually be knocking on the door at 10am armed with coffee (decaf for himself) and a couple of Danish pastries for them both. 

But he hadn’t done that once this week. 

At first, he’d thought that maybe it was him. That maybe he’d said or done something to upset him, but he couldn’t recall anything that might point in that direction.

Then, he thought that perhaps the pregnancy hormones were finally kicking in in a bad way and he was having one of those kinds of weeks where he just wanted to be left alone. 

But he hadn’t even called as frequently as he normally did - only texted, saying  _Goodnight <3_ or  _Good morning :)_. 

Which was how Kurt definitely knew that something was wrong. He was usually never like this. In fact, the last time he could remember him acting this way was…..well….

_Oh._

It was when they’d been fighting because Kurt had been texting someone else - another guy.

 He felt torn.

On the one hand, he knew that it was best to give him some space. On the other, he also knew that distancing himself from Blaine would be a huge mistake. One of the reasons why they had had problems when Kurt had gone to New York was that Kurt usually wasn’t very good at telling when other people were upset, and he usually wasn’t very good at initiating communication when other people were upset either. 

His ignorance of Blaine’s feelings had led to him feeling unwanted, which in turn had bred the loneliness and desperation that had led him to seek solace in something - some _one_  - else.

And Kurt knew that neither of them wanted to go through that again.

They  _couldn’t_  go through that again. 

Because if it happened a second time, they might not make it through. 


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

Raising his hand, Kurt knocked smartly three times on the Anderson’s front door.

Usually, he’d let himself in using the key tucked under a flowerpot near the door, but he didn’t do that this time. He wanted to give Blaine the option of either accepting or rejecting his arrival - if it was space he wanted to ride out the low mood he was experiencing, Kurt would give him that space.

He knew Blaine was home because his car was standing on the driveway. He waited a few moments, before knocking again twice.

His heart hammered under his shirt. It wasn’t that he was  _afraid_ , not really, but he was worried. Worried about Blaine, worried about how he’d react to Kurt being there, worried about what he might see if Blaine did come down to open the door.

 

And he was also worried because all of this just couldn’t be good for the baby, and he had to look out for its health just as much as he had to look out for Blaine’s. 

Kurt thought about knocking again, but changed his mind. He stepped back from the door a little and decided to wait. He only hoped that Blaine would want to come to him.

                 _____________________________________

As soon as he heard someone knock on the front door, his first instinct was to hide further under the blanket on his bed and pretend he hadn’t heard anything.

Today had been a particularly bad day. He’d gained three more pounds and the sight of himself in the big bathroom mirror after his shower had reduced him to tears for almost an hour. 

He was fat. He was ugly. And he didn’t want to talk to anyone.

But there was someone at the door.

No-one else was around, so he didn’t have to worry about his mom or dad going to answer it. Perhaps he could just stay here and hope that they’d eventually give up and go away.

But what if it was Kurt? Could he really turn  _Kurt_ away? He wanted to see him, and at the same time, he didn’t. He didn’t want Kurt to see him like this. 

He was afraid of what Kurt might say - what he might  _do_. 

The baby started to kick, having been silent for a while. He wrapped his arm around his stomach, as if he was trying to hold him or her inside of himself, to stop them from being exposed to the harsh reality of life outside the comfort of his own body. The rhythmic  _thump thump thump_  of the baby’s kicks was soothing, a comforting constant, and he concentrated on the feel of the tiny life inside him. 

                _____________________________________

Kurt had been standing outside for ten minutes, and he could feel the anxiety rising in the pit of his stomach. His palms were clammy, and he wiped them hastily on his pants as he worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

Why wasn’t he answering the door? 

He fidgeted with his keys, just for something to do. He tried to think of something else except all the awful possibilities that could explain Blaine’s sudden change in behaviour. 

He came up with nothing. 

Taking his phone out from his pocket, he wondered if he should call Blaine on his cellphone, or text. That way, he'd  _have_  to pick up. He  _would_  pick up - wouldn’t he? 

He didn’t know. 

Kurt could read Blaine like a book, most of the time. But when Blaine didn’t want to reveal any information about how he was feeling, well - then it was difficult. 

He was distracted from his thoughts by the sound of a car coming up the driveway, gravel crunching under the wheels. Could Blaine’s parents, his mom or dad, be home from work? But that wasn’t likely - it was still early afternoon. 

Which was when he noticed that the car that had stopped just a meter away from him wasn’t like anything he’d ever seen anyone drive around Lima. It was sleek, black, and low to the ground, shining in the glare of the sun.

No-one in Lima had a car like that, except maybe Sugar Motta. And this definitely wasn’t Sugar Motta, because if it had been, the car would probably be painted baby pink and not black. 

“Kurt! What are you doing outside? You know there’s a key under that ugly flowerpot by the front door, right?”

Kurt would recognize that over-zealous voice anywhere, not the least because for a good few solid months the previous year he’d had it as his ringtone.

“ _Cooper?_ ”

                  ______________________________________

Eventually, Blaine became too uncomfortable lying on his back, the weight of his stomach heavy on his hips and the base of his spine. He rolled over, meaning to try and get more comfortable lying on his side - which had been a bad idea, because it was suddenly brought to his attention that he had a very full bladder, which he had been ignoring for the sake of remaining in bed.

And now he really needed to pee.

Reluctantly, he swung himself up out of bed and shuffled across the hallway to the bathroom.

And stopped, because he could hear the strains of voices downstairs. 

“…..so what brings you back to Lima? It can’t be the small-mindedness of Mid Western life.” This was Kurt. The sarcastic comment made Blaine bite back a smile, before he remembered that Kurt wasn’t exactly the person he wanted to see right now.

What was he doing here?

“I could ask you the same thing. I thought you were living in New York now?”

If Blaine had been drinking anything, he would have choked on it. Loudly. 

Because that was  _his brother_. In  _his kitchen_  talking to  _his boyfriend_. His brother, who had absolutely no idea that he was even pregnant, or that he and Kurt were back together, because he’d never told him. 

 _What the hell is he doing back here?_  He thought wildly.  _And how on earth am I going to avoid him so he doesn’t find out?_  

“Is it cliche to say that my circumstances have changed?” It was Kurt again. He sounded nervous. 

“Could it be something to do with my brother?” Cooper asked, then, and Blaine’s heart stopped beating for a nanosecond. 

“You could say that.” Blaine swore he could  _hear_  the smile in Kurt’s voice, and his heart started beating again.

“Where is he, anyway? Blaine? BLAINE! Where are you, squirt? You hiding from me?" 

The dread returned as he heard Cooper calling up the stairs for him, loud and clear as though he were speaking through a megaphone. He should have known he’d get suspicious if he didn’t immediately turn up when he heard his car in the driveway. He’d want to know why Blaine didn’t want to see him when he’d been away for almost a year. 

His stomach feeling as though it were full of lead, he knew he’d have no choice but to go down there and at least say hi. But Kurt was there; maybe he’d cover for him. Maybe he’d be able to get across somehow to Kurt that Cooper didn’t know, and then he wouldn’t say or do anything that might let it slip.

There was just the minor problem that he stuck out like a sore thumb both figuratively and literally and although Cooper wasn’t the brightest bulb in the tool shed, he’d certainly notice that he was a lot bigger than he was a year ago.

He had no choice. He’d have to go say hi, or else Cooper would probably come up and find him standing there in the middle of the landing anyway and that’d be more embarrassing than the alternative. 

He gathered up his courage while he quickly went to the bathroom and tried desperately to tug his clothes down so that they covered more of his expanding frame. Not that it helped much.

Maybe Cooper _wouldn’t_  notice. Maybe he’d be too busy checking his reflection in the back of a spoon or something.

The thing is, wishful thinking almost never bore out in reality.

_______________________________________

Kurt didn’t hear Blaine shuffle his way into the kitchen until he gave a nervous-sounding, “Uh, hi,” from the doorway, trying to hide most of himself from Cooper’s line of vision. He didn’t look at Kurt.

And that was when Kurt realized exactly how much Cooper didn’t know. 

And, truth be told, he panicked a little.

Cooper suddenly spotted Blaine, and he broke out into the widest, whitest smile Kurt had ever seen - had he had his teeth whitened in LA? It certainly looked as though he did. He should have bee happy, pleased that Cooper was so excited, but his heart was hammering inside his chest. How on earth were they going to break the news to him?

“Blainey! I thought I heard you up there. I was starting to think you were trying to avoid me!” Kurt had to admit, his enthusiasm was infectious, even if he tended to go overboard. “Well, are you gonna come over here and give me a hug like a proper brother or what?”

“Um, no.” Kurt saw the alarm on Blaine’s face, and he sympathized. He felt pretty much the same. 

“No?” Cooper looked confused, a little hurt - this clearly hadn’t been the reunion he had wanted. But there was no way he could ever imagine the reason why.

 

“I - I don’t feel very well. Better not get too close in case you catch something." 

"That’s ridiculous, you perfectly fine to me. Now come over here and give your big brother a real welcome back hug. And put effort into it, don’t just stand there all floppy. Really mean it.”

“Coop, I really don’t think I can. I’m serious.”

“Could you give us a moment, please?” Kurt asked, feeling his chest clench painfully at the desperate look on Blaine’s face. 

“Sure!"  _Okay, he has really got to work on toning down the enthusiasm. Nothing is_ that _exciting_. 

Kurt quickly ushered Blaine out of the room and shut the door behind them, blocking out their voices from Cooper’s range of hearing. 

"What’s wrong? Why haven’t you talked to me in a week?” Kurt asked, running his hands up and down Blaine’s arms in an effort to comfort him. He noticed he was still wearing his pyjama pants that he must have slept in the previous evening. “And what do you want to do about your brother who knows absolutely nothing about us?”

At that point, it all became too much for Blaine. He collapsed against the solid warmth of Kurt’s chest and began to cry, softly but enough for Kurt to pull him tight to his body - carefully, to avoid squashing him and their baby - and press his cheek to the top of his head, rocking him gently from side to side, the way you would to comfort a crying infant. 

“Oh, sweetie,” Kurt said quietly. “I’m sorry you’re feeling like this. I want to help, but you have to tell me what’s wrong first. We had a deal.”

Blaine lifted his head from Kurt’s chest, his face streaked with tears and his eyes bloodshot. 

“It’s nothing. I’m being stupid. It’s - just hormones. I’m fine.” He hastily tried to wipe at his eyes with the edge of his sleeve, but more tears welled up in the place of the ones he wiped away. “ _Dammit._ ” _  
_

Kurt, sensing that there was more to it than that, took Blaine’s hands and held them in between their chests, right where their hearts would be. “Tell me."

"It’s just - I’ve gained so much weight recently and I look and feel awful, and I was scared that you wouldn’t be interested in me anymore once I started resembling a small rhino, or a really fat, over-sized rabbit, or something else like that, so I kept myself from you so I wouldn’t have to hear you say that you didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

“Is that really all this is about? A little weight gain?”

“Not a little.” Blaine sniffed. “A lot. Like, fifteen pounds." 

"If you honestly think I’d care how much you weigh, then you don’t know me at all. I  _love_  you. You’re having our baby. I don’t care whether you weigh a hundred and forty pounds or  _two_  hundred and forty pounds. I don’t care what you weigh. All I want is for you to be healthy and happy and  _not worry_  about little things like this. Okay?”

Blaine brightened up a little at Kurt’s words, and he was happy to see a little colour had returned to his face and his eyes had more of their usual bright spark.  _This_  was his Blaine. He hated it when he was upset. 

“Okay.”

“Good. Now, what are we going to do about your brother?”

“Tell him to leave?” Blaine offered sarcastically. 

“He just got here! And he really wants to see you. He came all this way. The least we can do is offer him some kind of explanation.”

“How about we just tell him the truth? I mean, he’s gonna find out anyway eventually, so we might as well just get it over with. I can’t hide it forever, he’s going to notice if he comes back for another visit in a few months and I have a  _baby_.”

 "Okay. Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna go back in there, tell your brother we’re back together, and that you’re pregnant. In that order.“

"Hey guys, what’s taking so lo - woah!” The door opened and Cooper was standing there, staring openly at them. No, not at them - at  _Blaine_ , who looked like a rabbit trapped in headlights as he frantically tried to pull the material of his sweater down over his swelling stomach. But to no avail. “Since when did you start shoplifting melons?”

“Uh, never?” Blaine gave up trying to hide the obvious and instead folded his arms on top of his stomach, his gaze switching from Kurt to the floor to Kurt again. Then, surprisingly, he broke out into a wide smile that reminded Kurt of Cooper’s earlier 100-watt grin, but with less blinding white teeth. “I’m pregnant, Coop. Kurt and I are going to have a baby.”

There was an awkward silence for a few moments, during which Kurt squeezed Blaine’s hand gently. He couldn’t help but smile, too. How could he not? He was just as happy as Blaine was. 

“Are you  _serious?”_ Cooper’s eyes looked like they might pop out of his head, they were so wide with shock. “I don’t believe you.”

Blaine used his free hand to take Cooper’s and place it on the curve of his stomach, pressing just enough that Kurt knew it would make the baby move - he’d done it himself before, feeling a childlike delight when the baby would kick or move around under his palm. 

“Believe me now?”

“ _Shit_ , Blainey. How the hell did this happen?”

Kurt went red at Cooper’s words, and he saw Blaine’s own cheeks go pink with slight embarrassment. 

“About six months ago? Kurt and I kind of….hooked up….at a wedding. Well, not really a wedding since they didn’t actually get married, but the hooking up still happened. We weren’t together then, but a few months ago we decided it was stupid to carry on as we were, broken up, and got back together.”

“And before you ask, no, I did not just agree to get back together with Blaine because of the baby.” Kurt put in. “Just in case you were wondering if I was leading him on or something, which I’m not.”

“Shit.” Cooper said again. “Do Mom and Dad know?”

“Yeah, they know. Dad’s still trying to come around to the idea but Mom is really supportive.”

“Shit.”

“Is that really all you’re going to say?" 

"I don’t know what else  _to_  say. My brother is having a baby. A kid. With his boyfriend. Jesus, Blaine, you're  _eighteen_. You’re just a kid yourself.”

“Eighteen is almost an adult, Cooper. I'm  _not_  a little kid. It’s my - it’s  _our_  - decision, not yours.” Even Kurt flinched at the venom that had crept into Blaine’s voice; though he knew it wasn’t directed at him. 

Cooper’s expression was unreadable. He seemed to be wrestling with either being angry or hurt, or both, or just disappointed; Kurt couldn’t tell. Blaine’s grip on his hand tightened, a small gesture that said the words he didn’t want to speak out loud;  _I want him to leave._

“C'mon, let’s go upstairs.” Kurt murmured in Blaine’s direction, giving him a half-smile when Cooper wasn’t looking. “It was nice seeing you, Cooper."  _And it was, until you decided to be an unsupportive jackass_ , he thought.  _  
_

Blaine didn’t say anything, simply let Kurt lead him up the stairs and into his own room, where he shut the door and let Blaine fall into his arms, rubbing soothing circles on his stomach and hiding his smile in Blaine’s curls when he felt the baby moving.

                     _____________________________________

Perhaps Cooper knew that he’d gone too far, because after three days of stony silence on Blaine’s part and a refusal to come home to eat with him and their parents and instead stay at Kurt’s, much to their parents’ confusion, he intercepted him on his way out of the bathroom.

It was the third time he’d had to pee in an hour, and was feeling irritated at having to get up all the time to use the toilet, so he wasn’t in the best of moods when his brother caught up with him. 

"Can we talk?" 

"I don’t want to hear it.” Blaine snapped back, massaging the spot at the base of his spine that ached like crazy whenever he stood up. 

“You know, maybe you should take some Aspirin for your back. It’d stop it hurting so much." 

"I can't  _take_  Aspirin, Cooper,” he pointed out, more exasperated than irritated now. “Pregnant, remember? It’s not safe.” He was at his bedroom door now, reaching for the doorknob. 

“Yeah, about that…..look, I know I haven’t been particularly supportive. But I really don’t think that you’ve thought this through.”

“Like you ever think things through.” Blaine replied, his irritation returning. “And anyway, I told you. I’ve made my decision, and Kurt’s made his.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you, squirt." 

"Well,  _don’t_. I can do fine by myself.” And with that, he slammed the door in his brother’s face. 

Once inside his room, Blaine leaned his forehead against the wood of the door, breathing deeply.  _I’m just trying to look out for you_. Yes, well, he’d been  _trying_  to look out for him for eighteen years, and look where that had gotten him. There was a difference between wanting to look out for someone and undermining their capability to make their own decisions. 

Because Cooper was so much older than he was, he thought he could act like a second father to him, and he had enough problems with his  _actual_  father without Cooper stepping in and pretending to be one. 

Lifting his head from the door, he rubbed his hands down his face, blinking back the tears pricking at his eyes. He didn’t want to cry  _again_.

So he did what he usually did.

Picking up his cellphone, he dialled Kurt’s number on autopilot, without thinking; he didn’t need to think to recall the familiar digits. 

“Hey, Kurt. Is it okay if I stay with you again tonight? I don’t want to be a burden on Burt and Carole, but it’s….difficult at home and I could really use a safe haven right now.”

“Of  _course_ , silly. Whatever you need." 

He ran away from the situation. 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

“Happy six months of pregnancy!” Kurt called out in a sing-song voice as he wandered into the living room, where Blaine was currently sprawled on the very, very comfortable couch at the Hudson-Hummel house.It may have been an old couch, but it did wonders for his aching back and sore hips, and he never wanted to move. 

“I got you a present,” Kurt continued, pulling a bag out from behind his back and holding it out. 

“You know it’s not like an actual anniversary or anything, right?” Blaine asked, eyebrow raised - but he was smiling. Ever since Cooper had left after his disastrous visit, Blaine had become happier and more relaxed, and Kurt was pleased. He really didn’t need any prolonged stress right now.

Blaine took the bag from him, curiosity piqued. Inside was a hot water bottle in a fluffy light blue case, soft to the touch.

“I’ve been desperate for one of these!” he said. “Since I can’t take any painkillers and my back’s been  _killing_  me, I really hoped I’d find one. And now I have one. Thanks, Kurt.”

“It was nothing,” Kurt replied, kissing him sweetly. “Reaching your third trimester is a big deal.” He sat himself down on the couch next to him and drew him close, hands instantly going to his stomach. “It means there’s only three more months until we get to meet our baby.”

 

Blaine’s smile widened. He sat up a little. “Well, when you say it like that….I guess it is kind of important. Which reminds me, I have a sonogram scheduled for this Saturday. Dr. Marshall says that we might be able to find out the sex, if he or she feels like cooperating during the sonogram.”

“Don’t you want it to be a surprise?” Kurt asked. “I think it’d be nice to not find out. It’d make the moment it’s born even more special than it already will be.”

“I don’t know. I kind of want to know, but at the same time, I don’t. It’s like half of me wants to wait to find out, and the other half of me is desperate to know. It’ll feel more real if we know if it’s a boy or a girl, at least to me. We can start thinking of names and getting some stuff together we’re going to need. We can’t do that if we don’t know what it is.”

 Kurt thought about this for a moment. He’d had fantasies lately of visiting those cute mother-and-baby stores, full of cute clothes and perfect white furniture and gorgeous accessories, everything an infant would need from birth until kindergarten. He’d even started absently sketching a layout for a nursery, made a list of paint samples he wanted to try. 

He’d kept all this from Blaine because he didn’t want to think he was getting ahead of himself. But now it might not appear so crazy.

“I know. We’ll flip on it.” Kurt rummaged around in his pocket and pulled out a quarter. “Heads means find out the sex, and if it’s not heads then we keep it a surprise.”

“I - okay, I like that idea. That’s fair.” Wriggling a little in an attempt to sit up properly, Blaine winced at the pain in his back. “Afterwards, you can fill up that hot water bottle for me and do something about this horrible pain in my spine.”

“Deal. Okay. Ready?” He held out the quarter - and flipped it. It remained suspended in the air for mere seconds before Kurt caught it and let it rest flat in his outstretched palm. He looked at it. 

“Not heads. I guess we’re keeping it a surprise." 

"And just buy things that are yellow or white until then.”

Kurt smiled. “Forward planning. Exactly the kind of planning that I like.”

                     ___________________________________

Blaine had always felt awkward stretched out on the sterile patient’s bed-cum-couch in Dr. Marshall’s office, but since he’d started gaining weight and getting a lot bigger it was even more embarrassing and actually quite uncomfortable. The hard covering of the bed was unyielding against his sore back and hips, and he tried to cover his discomfort with a smile as Dr. Marshall made conversation and asked the usual questions. 

When he mentioned the bad back pain, she gave a sympathetic smile. “Oh, I’ve been there. Hot water works quite well with most muscle, bone and joint pain - just start taking baths instead of showers, so you don’t have to stand on your feet and push all that weight down your legs, otherwise you’ll end up with bad knees as well as a bad back." 

After the preliminary questions and weight measurements (Kurt had to help him get up onto the scale; his balance wasn’t what it used to be), which had caused some embarrassment on Blaine’s part but Dr. Marshall had reassured him that he was progressing perfectly normally, she paused before switching on the sonogram machine. 

"So you know at twenty-four weeks, you can find out the sex of your baby, right? Have you made a decision about that?”

“We’d like to keep it a surprise.” Kurt answered, looking to Blaine for confirmation of the fact that that’s what they had decided. “It’ll make it more special when the time comes.”

“Okay, that seems fair. So let’s take a better look and you can see how much your baby’s grown.”

The machine buzzed to life and she gently pressed the wand to Blaine’s exposed skin, moving it around as the familiar black-and-white picture came into focus on the screen.

Except this time, it wasn’t a fuzzy, indistinguishable shape that they saw; it was a clearly-defined baby, with a head and hands and feet and fingers and legs and toes, and it was enough to make Kurt’s chest constrict.

“You see?” Dr. Marshall said. “You know we had some concerns some weeks ago about your weight and the possibility of a low birth weight for the baby, but since the results of the amniocentesis test came back negative and you seem to have bounced back really well in terms of your weight, I see no reason to be concerned about that any longer. He or she is on target for a healthy birth weight.”

There was a silence in which the three of them watched the picture moving on the screen; Dr. Marshall checking to make sure everything was completely fine, Kurt and Blaine staring in awe. They didn’t need words to say how it made them both feel; each knew how the other felt well enough to be able to read it in their expressions.

“D'you want to hear your baby’s heartbeat?” Dr. Marshall asked. “I know that you haven’t yet.”

“Yes! Absolutely, yes!” Kurt didn’t need to think twice. “Right, Blaine?”

“I’d love to hear it.”

“Just give me a minute….” There was a few moments’ rummaging and the plugging in of something into the main body of the machine that was connected to the wand with a long white cable. “We’re set to go. Give it a few seconds and we’ll be able to hear something.”

 And, sure enough, a few moments later a loud, steady  _thump_ ing filled the room, slow but sure and even. It was so clear Kurt swore he could imagine hearing that slow, steady beat right up against his ear, and he pictured cradling their son or daughter’s tiny body to his chest and listening to the sound of their heart.

He didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt the tears, warm and wet, hit the hollow in the base of his throat damply, spotting the collar of his shirt. 

“Oh, my God,” was all he could muster himself to say. “That's  _amazing_. I can’t even describe it.”

“Are you  _crying_?” Blaine asked, in disbelief, but Kurt knew better - there was the telltale constriction of emotion in his voice.

“Shut up, you are too! Oh, my God,  _Blaine_ ….I can’t believe this. It’s incredible.”

 "I know.“ Blaine murmured back, so quietly Kurt wasn’t sure he’d even spoken. "I  _know_.”

“D'you boys want a video to show to your families?" 

"You don’t even need to  _ask_ ,” Kurt sniffed, wiping his eyes fiercely with the hem of his shirt. “They’ll be thrilled.”

“My Mom would love it, so I’ll have one, too.” Blaine said. 

 "Consider it done. Oh, and while I’ve got you here, I wanted to let you know that since this is your third trimester, you’re being referred to Columbus General Hospital for the rest of your pregnancy, which means you’ll be seen by another doctor there instead of here. Now, it is about an hour away from here, but unfortunately it’s the closest one to Lima that offers the medical services you’ll need and it’s where you’ll be admitted to have your C-section when your due date comes. I’ve also arranged for you to be visited by an experienced midwife at home at least three times before the baby comes.“

"What about sonograms? Do I still need to get those?” Blaine asked. 

Dr. Marshall nodded. “One at thirty weeks and another one at either thirty-six or thirty-eight weeks, depending on what you decide for the arrangements for your C-section. But the midwife will discuss that with the both of you in more detail later on. Do you have any more questions at this point?”

“I don’t think so.” Kurt said. Blaine shook his head.

“Also, I would advise that you stay away from processed foods and foods that are high in fat and acids. Heartburn is pretty common in the third trimester and you want to avoid that as much as possible, so try and cut down as much as you can." 

Kurt helped Blaine off the couch/bed, and they thanked Dr. Marshall before leaving her office, Kurt clutching several DVD copies of the sonogram and recording of their baby’s heartbeat, which she had made for them there and then at her computer. 

"You know what I really want?” Kurt said, linking his arm through Blaine’s as they made their way to the car. “Coffee. But we’ll get it to go, because I want to show dad and Carole these,” he held up the DVDs, “as soon as possible.”

“Coffee sounds great. But make mine a caramel mocha.”

Kurt gave Blaine a strange look as they got into the car and he shut the door. “You don’t like caramel. Or mocha. Which is weird, because I  _know_  your favourite dessert is tiramisu." 

"I may not, but the baby does, and whatever he or she wants, he or she gets. I don’t want to withhold anything. And just for that, I’ll have a tiramisu to go, too.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“No, I’m not. You just can’t resist me.”

And with a self-satisfied smirk, Blaine leaned back in the passenger seat and closed his eyes, intending apparently to nap on the way home. 

              ________________________________________

Carole cried just as much as Kurt had when she saw the DVD, and had enveloped him in the biggest, tightest embrace he could ever remember getting as she wiped at her eyes and told him how happy she was for him and Blaine. 

Even his dad, who never was big on emotional speeches or gestures, squeezed his shoulder wet-eyed, making a gruff comment about how he still couldn’t believe he was going to be a grandpa.

With Cooper gone, Blaine stayed for dinner at the Hudson-Hummel’s and then Kurt drove him home, lingering more than was absolutely necessary to kiss him goodbye on the Anderson’s front porch. 

When he’d gone inside and Kurt turned back towards his car, he thought about how happy he was. How much things had changed since that last October; and how they had changed again since February. Things were undoubtedly going to change for the third time  _this_  October, when their baby finally arrived.

He decided that he was going to make the most of every moment until then, and every moment after then. Having been so close to losing Blaine, he wanted to make sure that never happened again. 

And to do that, he was going to be the best boyfriend, the best father, the best  _everything_  that he could possibly be. 

With those thoughts in mind, a plan started formulating in his head. He was going to make these next three months unforgettable, so that when the time came, they were completely ready to take on the challenges that parenthood would bring. 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

Ohio in July was  _hot_.

Temperatures had soared in the last couple of weeks, meaning that every window and door in every house in Lima was thrown open, and every available electric fan buzzing. 

But even with two fans and the window wide open, Blaine was still far too hot despite his loose shorts - which Kurt had carefully sewn elastic into so that they expanded easily with his growing stomach - and t-shirt. 

Kurt wasn’t much better, flushed red-pink and despairing at the way his hair fell limp in the heat and humidity. He’d taken to lying on the floor of the living room next to one of the fans, letting it blow air over his sweaty face and neck. 

“Remind me never to be pregnant in the middle of summer again,” Blaine groaned, shifting uncomfortably on the couch and wrinkling his nose at the way his shirt stuck to his back with sweat. “I can’t stand this heat. And I don’t think the baby likes it either, it’s kicking like crazy and it kind of hurts.”

 

Kurt rolled onto his side so that he was facing Blaine and gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry you’re so uncomfortable. But it doesn’t seem like there’s much we can do if these temperatures keep climbing.” He rolled onto his back, then seemed to think of something. “A cool bath might help. You won’t feel as hot, anyway.”

“I don’t think I can move.” Blaine said. “If I do, I’ll melt to the ground. Maybe later?”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Kurt let out a puff of breath, strands of hair over his forehead fluttering. “I wish we had a pool. Or lived in Antarctica.”

“We could keep a penguin as a nanny for the baby." 

"Nah, it wouldn’t work. How would they hold the baby? They don’t have hands. And don’t you dare suggest they carry it between their feet. I’ve seen them do it on the Discovery Channel and there is no way a penguin is carrying my baby between its feet.”

“Oh, so it's  _your_  baby now? You know, I’m the one who’s actually pregnant here." 

Kurt knew that he was only joking; it was what they did. Playful teasing was the way they worked. 

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

"That cool bath actually sounds really great. And could you get me some cream cheese? I have a huge craving for it and I'm  _starving_." 

Kurt rolled his eyes to the ceiling, but he hardly thought he could complain. He was happy to do whatever Blaine asked - hot and sweaty or not.

"I’m already on it." 

"Thank you.”

The tenderness, the sincerity, in Blaine’s voice whenever he said that never failed to take Kurt’s breath away.

                _________________________________________

Unfortunately, the temperatures in Lima stayed pretty high over the next week as well. 

Fortunately, this meant that it was too hot to wear pyjamas to bed, and so on nights when Burt and Carole weren’t at home (or Blaine’s parents, if they were at his house), he and Blaine had taken to sleeping naked under a single thin sheet, sticky with sweat but too tired to care after spending all day roasting in the hot Ohio sun. 

Whenever this happened, Kurt would take a few minutes every night to marvel at the way Blaine’s body had changed, the wider hips and broader, stronger thighs, thicker waist and large, swollen stomach - especially his stomach. He’d trace his lips over each and every one of the silvery-pink stretch marks, place a kiss over his bellybutton, and laugh when he felt the baby kick out a foot or a fist against his cheek where he rested it against the smooth, firm skin. 

Blaine thought he was insane, that there was no way he could find anything attractive in his body the way it was right now. Kurt told him that  _he_ was the crazy one, and besides, it was his job to love each and every part of him. 

It was on one of those such nights (Burt and Carole had gone out of town to visit Carole’s aging aunt) that Kurt noticed that something was different.

They were spooned side by side, Kurt cradling Blaine with his body as he pressed drifting kisses across the back of his neck and along the tops of his shoulders, only Blaine didn’t seem to be responding the way he usually did - with a gasp and a squirm and a “ _Kurt_ , stop, I’m trying to sleep,” but secretly enjoying the way Kurt’s lips felt against his skin.

In fact, Kurt wasn’t sure whether he was entirely comfortable, as he seemed tense and rigid; and he knew from experience how pliable Blaine got when he was sleepy, loose-limbed and soft. 

It was when Blaine suddenly stiffened for a few seconds, the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight, before relaxing again that made Kurt think that something was wrong.

“Hey, are you okay?” he whispered, stroking the curling hair at the nape of Blaine’s neck. “You’re all tight and tense.”

“Yes. No. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I - keep getting these pains, in my side, and down my stomach. It’s been happening for a few -  _ah_ _-_ hours now.”

“ _What?_  And you didn’t tell me?” Kurt immediately sat up in bed, switching on the lamp on the nightstand. Blaine had, with some difficulty, rolled onto his back and Kurt could see the way his face was pulled tight with discomfort and pain. 

“I didn’t think it was a huge deal. Then it got worse.” He bit his lip, hard, his hand going to his side; he let out a tiny grunt of pain. “Now it’s happening pretty often and I don’t know what it is, or why it’s happening.”

“Then you need to go to the hospital.” Kurt insisted, already halfway out of bed and reaching for a pair of underwear from the drawer in the nightstand.

“No! No, it’s probably nothing. I don’t want to bother a doctor with this at this time of night.” He gasped and groaned; Kurt didn’t need to look behind him to know that the pain had come again. 

“It can’t be nothing if you’re in pain. I’m taking you to the hospital." 

"Kurt - fine. Okay, fine. Just - just help me get dressed, please? I’m not very good at maneuvering myself right now. I keep bumping into things.”

Kurt did, nelping him into a pair of shorts and a loose t-shirt.  And several times, he found himself being used as a crutch for Blaine as he leaned on him heavily, breathing hard and whimpering under his breath. He smoothed down his hair and promised him that he’d feel better when they got to the hospital.

The drive was tense, and Kurt found resisting the urge to panic more and more difficult with each groan and gasp that came from Blaine, who was hunched in the passenger seat with his eyes half-closed and his brow creased.

At which point he remembered suddenly that the nearest hospital that would be able to help them was over an hour away, just outside Columbus, and neither of them could wait that long.

So he did a very illegal (and hopefully invisible) U-turn and headed straight back in the direction of Lima.

“Where are you going? I thought we were going to the hospital?" 

"It’s over an hour away, I can’t stand seeing you in pain that long. I’m turning back and I’m calling Dr. Marshall.” Kurt’s voice was tight, strained. He was audibly and visibly on edge. 

“O-Okay. Just - just be as fast as you can, okay?” Blaine was almost begging -  _pleading_. 

“I will, I will,” Kurt replied, putting his foot down on the accelerator as they shot down Lima’s main road and turned off at the street where Kurt lived.

Kurt had Dr. Marshall on the phone before they’d barely made it through the front door.

“I’m really, really sorry to bother you so late but - but -” In the tension of the situation and the worry that had been building up in his chest, a dam inside him seemed to break, and he inexplicably began to cry.

“It’s Blaine,” he managed to get out. “He’s in pain. He said that he has pains - down his side and his stomach - and he has for hours, even though he didn’t  _tell_  me, and he’s in a lot of pain and I don’t know what to do and the hospital is over an hour away and I didn’t want to wait that long to see a doctor or someone who could help, so I thought of calling you, and I’m really sorry about this but it was the only thing I could think to do." 

 He sobbed noisily into the end of the phone, so much so that he almost didn’t hear Dr. Marshall’s reply. She sounded tired, but not angry that she’d been woken. 

"Kurt, Kurt, listen. I know it’s scary, but you need to calm down, okay? Can you put Blaine on the phone for me? I think I know what’s wrong but I’d like to talk to him first.”

He handed the phone over to him as instructed, and then waited in silence - broken only by the sound of his own erratic breathing as he tried to get his own crying under control. 

He waited while Dr. Marshall talked, and Blaine listened. It was hot and stuffy in the kitchen; sweat was beading along the back of his neck. 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay, I can do that. Okay. Thank you, so much. And I’m sorry again for -  _ouch_  - waking you up so late." 

"What did she say? Is it serious?" 

"She’s 90% sure it’s Braxton-Hicks contractions.”

“Only 90%?”

Blaine gave a weak smile. “Kurt, relax. It’s not that bad. They’re like fake labour pains, they can start anytime from twenty-four weeks onwards. Some people don’t get them till the very end, others earlier - like me, apparently. And they’re worse for men. That’s why it was - why it still is - hurting so bad.”

“Did she say if there’s anything you can do to make them hurt  _less_?” Kurt asked, coming over and standing behind Blaine’s chair, resting his hands on his shoulders. 

“No, not really. Heat will sometimes work, but since it’s already so hot I don’t really like the idea of doing that. I guess I’ll just have to ride it out for now and hope it stops soon." 

Kurt bent down to place a kiss to Blaine’s forehead, which was damp with sweat. "Do you want to go back to bed? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, if you’re more comfortable down here we can go on the couch and I’ll bring you some ice. You look really warm and I don’t want you overheating like this.”

“The couch would be great. I don’t want to face the stairs right now." 

"I’ll go and get some sheets.”

It took a few minutes, but eventually they were settled on the couch, Blaine lying in between Kurt’s legs and using his chest as a pillow. Neither of them could be bothered to change and they ended up discarding the sheets as it was too hot.

They simply lay there as they were, Kurt rubbing circular patterns on Blaine’s stomach, sliding his hand under his shirt to trace swirls and shapes on his hot skin. Eventually the pain seemed to subside a little, and Blaine fell asleep.

Kurt, however, stayed awake, one hand resting on Blaine’s stomach and the other holding his hand. He smiled when he felt Blaine squeeze his fingers in his sleep. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

Blaine was pretty sure this amounted to some kind of torture.

If July had been hot, then August was even hotter, and he was seriously contemplating moving to the North Pole for the reminder of his pregnancy because it was  _unbearable_.

Most of the time he was hot and sweaty and extremely uncomfortable, not to mention finding it hard to maneuver himself around obstacles like furniture and stray shoes because of his size. Twice he nearly tripped over a pair of his mother’s shoes in the hallway and he’d bumped into the side of the coffee table with the bruises to prove it more times than he would like to admit.

Kurt sympathized, but there was only so much he could do to help. The only way to get rid of the aches and pains and unfortunate collisions with sharp edges of tables was to have the baby, and that wasn’t going to happen for another two months.

 

If he was honest, he wanted the baby to come so he could get some relief just as much as he wanted the baby to come so he could finally meet him or her. 

It was a struggle, and the people closest to him - Kurt, Sam, Tina, his parents, Burt and Carole - seemed to know that, and did their best to make him feel better.

He’d taken to lounging on the couch with Kurt while his mom brought him cup after cup of ice water, trying as best he could to cool off in the baking heat. Sometimes he’d get so comfortable he’d fall asleep, only to wake up hours later in an extremely  _un_ comfortable position with raging pain that seemed to come from deep within his spine, making it almost impossible for him to move. 

The first time that had happened, he’d been in so much pain that he couldn’t stop himself from crying despite Kurt’s best attempts to soothe the pain with massage and a hot water bottle. It had taken hours for pain to fade, and even then it became a dull, constant ache that just wouldn’t go away. 

On top of it all, since he’d started getting Braxton-Hicks contractions he’d been having them almost every day for hours, and that coupled with the pain in his back made him feel nauseated and exhausted.

“Just two more months,” Kurt would remind him, smiling gently. “Just two more months, then it’ll be over and we can focus on being the best parents we can possibly be.”

                   ________________________________________

Towards the end of August, and round about the thirty-week mark, they were visited as promised by a midwife from the hospital.

It also happened to be on a day when Blaine’s back pain was particularly bad.

He held Kurt’s hand and cried through the physical exam, and the midwife - a red-headed woman called Sandra with crows’ feet and a sympathetic, friendly expression - had looked worried. She asked him to rate the pain on a scale of one to ten, with ten being the highest rating. 

“About - about a seven and a half? Or maybe an eight?” he’d sniffed, embarrassed that he’d cried in front of the midwife - Sandra. Kurt handed him a tissue from the box on the coffee table and he wiped at his eyes. “All I know is that it’s really painful and nothing seems to help.”

“Have you considered physical therapy? There are excellent programs available at the hospital for both women and men who suffer with bad back pain during pregnancy." 

"No,” Blaine replied. “I - we - we hadn’t thought of that.”

“We’re a bit behind with the technical arrangements.” Kurt said. “It’s sort of happened so fast that we haven’t really had time to think about it logically.”

“It could definitely help you if you want to give it a try. I can arrange for you to meet with a physical therapist who will either visit you here at home or at the hospital, though I do understand that it’s at least an hour away from here and it’s not always an option, especially if you decide you want to go ahead with it and the appointments become regular.”

“Thank you.” Blaine said. “What do you think?” He directed this question at Kurt. 

“I think you should do it. You’ve been in so much pain recently that it can’t hurt to try it, at least.”

Sandra made a note on her notepad. “I’ll arrange that for you as soon as possible, then. Now, I know that it’s two months away yet but you know that you’ll be admitted for a C-section in October. But you have a choice of when you would like to have the procedure. You can either wait until you reach forty weeks and have the surgery on your natural due date, which is the 26th, or you can choose to come in early from thirty-eight weeks onwards, meaning you can have the surgery up to two weeks early. Have you thought about that much?”

“Not really,” said Blaine. “Is there any medical benefits to either option? Would it matter either way, whichever one I choose?”

“Not particularly, no,” she replied. “The bonus of waiting till your natural due date is that it’s, well, natural and it means you’ll be at full term and fully ready to deliver. Of course, having the surgery early means that you’ll be able to meet your baby earlier, which is always a bonus point for new parents. It’s completely up to you, and whichever you choose the hospital will be ready to accommodate you.”

Blaine looked to Kurt, who seemed to be deep in thought and very far away.

“Do we have to make the decision now?”

“Not at all. Just either let me know or let Dr. Marshall know what you’ve decided and I can make the arrangements with the right people at the hospital. But it  _is_  better that you decide sooner rather than later.”

After that, things went smoothly. She did a sonogram using a portable device that she plugged into a socket near the couch, angling the hand-held screen so that they could see the moving black-and-white shape of their baby. 

“Is it possible to get a picture from that?” Kurt asked. “Only it’d be amazing to compare how much the baby’s grown." 

"Of course.” She smiled. 

                _____________________________________

After she’d left, Kurt was quick to notice that Blaine seemed subdued, and quieter than his usual self. 

“Is everything okay? You’re quiet." 

Blaine rubbed a hand over the front of his stomach absently. "Just…thinking about how fast everything’s changed. We’re barely ready for all of this to happen but it just  _keeps happening_  and…” He breathed deeply, turned away from Kurt so that his face was hidden from him. “I guess I’m kind of scared of not being able to cope with everything when the baby comes. That it’ll be too much and I’ll - do something or freak out or - or-”

But he couldn’t finish what he was trying to say. The thought of what he  _might_  do if things became too much was impossible to bear. 

Kurt slid closer to Blaine, reaching around to rub circles on the small of his back, where he subconsciously knew the worst of the pain was settled. “Listen to me,” he began, “everything is going to be  _fine_. I’m scared too, but I know we can make it work. We have before. We’ll do it again. I promise.”

Blaine swallowed. “What if things get hard? What if we can’t cope? I’ve been there, Kurt. When we broke up….it was horrible. I couldn’t eat, I barely slept, all I could think about was how I’d screwed things up. I hated myself. If it wasn’t for Sam…..”

Kurt had known that their break-up had been hard on Blaine, but it didn’t stop his words from shocking him, like an electrical current right to the heart, like shards of ice piercing the skin.  _If it wasn’t for Sam…._ what would have happened? Did Kurt want to know? 

But it wasn’t good to dwell on the past. What happened had happened, but both of them were much, much happier now. He made a mental note to thank Sam the next him he saw him.

“I know. I what you went through, but that won’t happen again. We both know what that feels like now and we’ll get through it. We  _will_. It’s only natural to be nervous and afraid. This is something huge, and it’s not going to be easy. But we’ll get through it together.” Kurt said, leaning his forehead against Blaine’s. “I can promise you that. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Blinking back tears in his own eyes, Kurt sat up, brushing his hands down the front of his pants. He had a sudden idea, and a smile broke across his face. 

“Do you want to go somewhere?”

Blaine looked confused. “Where?”

“Anywhere. Just the two of us. We’ve both been in this house too long and you should get some exercise.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said I wasn’t fat.”

“You're  _not_  fat. What I mean is, you should be moving more. It helps your circulation and it’ll stop your feet from swelling up. I hear that’s common late in the pregnancy.”

Kurt made his best attempt at a winning smile and batted his eyelashes while Blaine continued to look at him, eyebrow still raised. Finally, he caved in.

“What did you have in mind?”

If it was possible, Kurt’s smile got even wider. “I thought we could go baby shopping. I have some money saved up from my internship at Vogue and I want to treat you - the  _both_  of us. We’ve only got two months and I want to make the most of it with you. And don’t give me that look, Blaine Anderson,” he added when Blaine opened his mouth to protest, probably about Kurt saying he would be paying, “I told you months ago, I  _want_  to do this. Deal?”

Blaine rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Deal. But you’ll have to help me up off this couch. I think I’m stuck.”

“I knew you’d come around!” Kurt replied happily, leaning forward to place a kiss to his forehead.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

“Oh, Kurt, that's incredible! Did you really put that up by yourself?” Carole gushed as Kurt proudly showed her the crib that he and Blaine had bought several hours earlier but was now fully standing, parts and all, securely in place in the middle of the living room. Blaine was sitting with his hands over his stomach, cross-legged next to it on the floor, a decision he was currently regretting because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get back up again.

“I’ve been fixing cars for years. I could hold a spanner before I could talk. I can put up a crib by myself.”

“Isn’t it great, Burt?” Carole nudged her husband, who had gone into stunned silence the moment he’d walked into the living room. 

“Oh! Yeah, yeah it’s great. You did great, Kurt." 

Was it just him, or did his father seemed distracted? He looked as though he was on the verge of saying something, but kept thinking better of it. 

"It’s actually really good timing because your father and I have something we’d like to tell you. Don’t we, Burt?”

 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, we do. You might want to be sitting down for this." 

Kurt looked at them as if to say,  _Well? What is it?_

"We want to turn the spare room into a nursery!” Carole burst out, apparently unable to contain the secret any longer; his dad was beaming, looking at them both. 

“Oh my God - you - you don’t have to do that!” Kurt said. “That’s too much. I’ll help out if you want me to-”

But Burt put up his hand to silence him. “This is our gift to the both of you. I know that you’ll eventually want to go back to New York but while you’re here, we want to make sure that there’s a place for all three of you here. And I’ve already talked to your parents, Blaine, and they’re completely on board too.”

“That’s - what Kurt said, it’s too much, I couldn’t possibly let you do that for me - for both of us.” Blaine said, tripping over his words. “It’s too much.” He repeated lamely, building emotion constricting his voice.

It became a little too much for Kurt to take. He rushed forward, throwing his arms around his father’s middle and hugging him so tightly he was sure in some subconscious part of his mind that he was hurting him, but at that moment he breathed in the smell of flannel and car oil and let himself express the things he had such difficulty saying through touch instead of speech.

His dad awkwardly patted him on the shoulder, chuckling to himself. “It’s the least we can do, kid. For the both of you.”

Pulling away with wet eyes, Kurt helped Blaine unsteadily to his feet. He sniffed loudly and forcefully, hiding his face in the crook of Blaine’s neck so that his dad didn’t seem him crying. 

Carole drifted off to see to preparing dinner and Burt went to fetch a beer from the kitchen, muttering something about “giving you two some alone time.”, and so they were alone. 

Unwrapping himself from Kurt’s grasp, Blaine wandered over to the newly-built crib, looking into it carefully. 

“We should paint it yellow. Or maybe green. That way it’s gender neutral and afterwards we can either paint over it or keep it the way it is." 

Kurt went to stand next to him, one hand gripping the rails of the crib and the other holding Blaine’s hand. "We are so, so lucky. You understand that, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. I never thought - that any of this would happen. And now it is. I feel like we’re the luckiest people in the world.”

“Or maybe not so lucky, especially if everything I’ve read about the first six months of being a parent are true.” Kurt joked, judging Blaine in the side playfully, careful not to hurt him or the baby in any way. “But in all honesty, I’m really looking forward to having a baby with you.”

“Me too.” Blaine replied. 

                ___________________________________

“Sam Evans, stop using my boyfriend’s belly as a snack table.” Kurt scolded, making as if to smack him but Sam dodged his flying hand just in time, popping another tortilla chip in his mouth from the bowl that was currently resting on the topmost curve of Blaine’s stomach. He didn’t look as though he minded much.

“It makes me feel useful.” Blaine protested. Since his first couple of sessions with the physical therapist, his back pain had been a lot better and the Braxton-Hicks contractions had stopped coming as frequently, and he wanted to take advantage of the relief from the agony he’d been in for weeks, so he’d invited Sam over to hang out with him and Kurt, and of course he’d accepted right away (“Sure! I haven’t seen you in, like, forever since you’re always busy with baby stuff now.”).

“See? Blaine doesn’t care.” Sam said, as if that settled the matter. 

Kurt liked having Sam around. He put Blaine at ease, and he didn’t have to worry about him so much then. The kind of friendship they had made him envious, because he’d never had a close bond like that with anyone except Rachel, and even that was prone to its extreme highs and lows. 

Plus, he had been willing to help move the crib into the spare room upstairs, as Kurt hadn’t been able to carry the whole thing by himself and there was no way he was letting Blaine anywhere near anything remotely large or heavy. 

“Oh, and I forgot to tell you,” Sam said, grinning, “I got offered a place at Lima University to do music. The letter came last week. They said they were impressed that I was able to learn music by ear because of my dyslexia, and they’ll give me a tutor to help me learn how to read sheet music.”

“That’s great news!” Kurt replied. “I didn’t even know you were applying.”

“Neither did I, but my mom convinced me. It’s no New York, and it means staying in Lima for a few extra years, but it’ll be worth it.”

Blaine listened to the conversation, perfectly content with saying nothing. He was happy for Sam. He knew he’d had his insecurities regarding his future because of his dyslexia and whether or not he’d be admitted into college, and he was glad he’d found a way to overcome those insecurities. He took a chip and leaned into Kurt so that he was resting his head on his arm, feeling the fabric of his shirt soft against his cheek. 

Sam’s next question took them both by surprise. 

“Are you guys gonna go back to New York when the baby comes?”

It was surprising because both of them realized that they hadn’t actually thought about it. Kurt knew that he would have to return, or would be expected to return, to NYADA for the continuation of his studies sometime during the fall, and Isabelle would be expecting him back at Vogue.com. Blaine wouldn’t be going to college, of course, but they both knew that he’d go wherever Kurt went. 

Kurt also knew that he would be staying in Lima until October. He wasn’t going to risk Blaine’s health and their baby’s health by asking him to move to New York in the middle of his third trimester. It was much too short notice and, anyway, although Kurt had secretly been longing for New York, they had everything they needed here, at least for now. 

“I know I want to go to New York.” Blaine said, after a few moments had passed. “And whatever Kurt decides, that’ll be good enough for me. I know you have Vogue and NYADA.” He directed this last part towards Kurt.

“I’ll work something out. I got them to make an exception for me once, I can get them to make an exception for me again.” Kurt said confidently, with an air of superiority that made Blaine smile. That was Kurt all over. Confident and superior in every way, but not the least bit arrogant, not in all the time he’d known him. “We should probably look for an apartment for ourselves, too, or Rachel will be trying to give the baby vocal lessons before it can even make intelligible sounds.”

“Really?” Blaine’s eyes widened, heart leaping. “You’ve - you’ve thought about us getting our own apartment?”

“Of course I have. We’ll need a place to ourselves eventually, so why not now?”

“Rachel and Santana -” Blaine protested.

“Won’t mind at all.” Kurt said. “They’ll understand." 

"You should totally get your own place.” Sam put in. “You don’t want Santana teaching your kid all the curse words in Spanish so their first word is  _mierda_.”

Kurt winced at the thought of Santana teaching  _anyone’s_  child to say  _mierda._ If he had his way, she’d only be allowed to babysit under strict supervision from a co-babysitter. That way she wouldn’t be allowed to get away with anything Kurt would disapprove of. 

Blaine grimaced. “Good point. Not that I have anything against Santana,” he added quickly. 

“Don’t worry.” Sam said, nudging his shoulder. “I won’t tell her.”

                   ________________________________

“You know, I’m actually quite surprised that my stretch marks aren’t that bad.” Blaine remarked from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, facing Kurt’s full-length mirror. He had his shirt pulled up and was scrutinizing himself in his reflection. 

“It’ll be your skin type,” Kurt said, abandoning his laptop - where he had been secretly browsing baby stores for things like bottles and diapers and tiny sets of clothes - and coming over to sit next to him. “That and the fact that you have darker skin so they won’t show up as much.”

Blaine sighed, noticeably irritated at something. He frowned. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Look at me.” He said, poking his stomach with a finger. He felt the baby squirm at the disturbance and kick out, with a fist or a foot he couldn’t tell. “I'm  _enormous_.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re perfect." 

"You have to say that.” Blaine replied grumpily. “I feel huge. And it’s going to get worse, because I still have 9 weeks left.” To Kurt’s horror, tears were welling up in Blaine’s eyes. “I just feel fat and useless." 

"Hey, hey, stop that,” Kurt said softly, wrapping his arms around him and leaning in close. “You are  _not_  fat and you are  _not_ useless.”

“I got stuck in the bathroom for ten minutes today because I couldn’t get up off the toilet.” Blaine grumbled. “I had to ask my  _mom_  to come and help me. Thankfully I’d forgotten to lock the door because I was in a rush. It was so  _embarrassing_. So yes, I am fat and I am useless.”

“ _Stop it_.” Kurt said firmly. “I hate seeing you like this. It’s only for two more months, remember? Just nine more weeks, that’s all that’s left. Then you can have the C-section and our baby will be here, and we can start a new chapter in our lives.”

“You always know the right things to say. And I….don’t.” Blaine mumbled. 

“I honestly think you’re better with words than I am, Blaine.” Kurt said. “I’m not good with the epic romantic speeches like you are.”

“If you say so.” But he was smiling now, a soft half-smile that brought some of the spark back to his eyes. “ _Oooh_ , ouch - I really wish you’d stop kicking me because what is apparently fun for you is not fun for me.” It took Kurt a few moments to realize he was talking to his stomach, or rather, to the baby. He shifted, clearly uncomfortable. 

“You wanna move to sit on the bed? I can get you an extra pillow if you need it.”

“Two pillows.” Blaine corrected. “And yes, please. Help me?”

Kurt did. He went out into the hallway to the linen closet and returned with two extra pillows, which he arranged behind Blaine so that he was as comfortable as possible. He stretched out next to him, reaching for his laptop again and setting it on his lap. Blaine peered at it curiously before he could close the window on the screen. 

“Are those - Kurt, were you looking at baby clothes?" 

Kurt went pink, flushing high on his cheeks. "Um. Yes. I couldn’t help it! Ever since we got the crib I’ve just wanted to get  _more_. I think I have baby brain.”

“I thought only people who were actually pregnant got that.” Blaine said. “But I - I like it. That you’re thinking about that stuff. I’ve kind of been thinking about it, too.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, of course! I mean, we don’t know the gender yet, but we can still buy stuff. Paint, for the walls, for one. I was thinking maybe a light yellow or a pale mint green, you know, a bright, happy colour." 

Kurt’s mouth dropped open in surprise. 

"What?” Blaine asked. 

“I didn’t realize you’d given it so much thought.”

“You’re the one looking at baby clothes online. I was just thinking about paint swatches." 

"Paint swatches are important.”

“They are.”

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Kurt moved his laptop away and gestured for Blaine to come closer, spreading his legs wide to show that he wanted him to sit between them. Kurt bracketed Blaine’s legs with his own, bringing his arms around the front of Blaine’s body and loosely looping them around his hips. 

“Mmm, you’re a very comfortable pillow.” Blaine said, resting back against his chest. “It keeps the weight off the base of my spine this way. It doesn’t hurt as much.”

“Then I’ll just have to keep you like this for the rest of the evening.” Kurt murmured, nosing at Blaine’s ungelled hair where the curls had sprung free. 

“Mmm. I wouldn’t count on it. I think the baby’s sitting on my bladder so I’ll probably need the bathroom in about ten minutes." 

” _Gross_ , Blaine.“

Kurt felt the vibrations of Blaine’s laughing against his chest. He loved the sound of Blaine’s laugh; it was a sound that could make him feel a hundred times better whenever he heard it. 

"Too bad. You’re stuck with me.”

“That, I am.” Kurt agreed. “But I don’t care. I’d stay with you anyway.”

“I know you would. I just like hearing you say it.”

It was Kurt’s turn to laugh. 

“I know." 


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

_If your baby’s a boy, his testicles have probably moved into his scrotum. Sometimes, one or both testicles don’t get into position until after birth. This is nothing to worry about. Undescended testicles often correct themselves before the first birthday._

_Your baby gains a third to half of her birth weight during the next seven weeks, fattening up for life outside your uterus (womb). Thanks to this fatty layer, your baby’s skin is plumping up nicely._

“Apparently the baby will get up to half of his or her birth weight during the next seven weeks,” Kurt announced from where he’d been reading from a baby and parenting website on his laptop. “I hope it’s all cute and fat like the babies you see in those stock photos on the Internet.”

“I don’t,” Blaine groaned, “I feel the size of a house as it is. I actually don’t think it’s even possible for me to get any bigger.”

 

He  _should_  have been looking through a catalogue of nursery furniture, but had since abandoned it in favour of stretching out on the bed with his eyes closed, drifting between sleeping and wakefulness. He’d taken to rubbing random patterns on his stomach whenever he was still or unoccupied, and he’d told Kurt once that the rhythmic movements helped him sleep - and get the baby to stop moving as much so that he  _could_  sleep.

“That’s what it says here.” Kurt said. “But I promise you will never get as big as a house. You’d be like Alice after eating the mushrooms and scare all the neighbours.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve already scared them away,” he said quietly, and that made Kurt sit up a little straighter and look at him curiously.

“What do you mean by that?”

“What? Oh, it’s nothing. Just something stupid.”

 " _Blaine_. C'mon. We’ve talked about this. You promised you’d tell me when bad stuff happened. So what happened?“

"I was out with Sam and Tina at The Lima Bean - and don’t worry, I didn’t drink any coffee, as much as I would kill for a medium drip I’m not going to risk anything - and there was this - woman. She kept staring at me the whole time we were there and I swear I’ve never seen anyone look so disgusted, which is saying something because this  _is_  Ohio." 

"I’m sorry,” Kurt said sincerely. “But we’ll be in New York soon, and it’ll be  _so_  much better than Ohio. A million times better. And we’ll be there together.”

Blaine reached across the space on the bed to hold Kurt’s hand. “Is it weird that as awful as Ohio actually is, I’m kind of going to…miss it, when I leave?”

“No. I think on some level I miss it, too. My dad’s here, Carole’s here, it’s the place I grew up in. I mean, it was horrible, but I still grew up here and that has to mean something, right? You can’t really forget the place you spent a quarter of your life living in that easily, no matter how bad it might have been. And it was  _bad_. But it’s not something I can just forget.”

Blaine could understand that. It  _wasn’t_  something you could easily forget. He’d had his own share of bad experiences, some more recent than others, and the memories of those experiences would be forever tied to Ohio and Lima and the oppressive small-town environment. 

But it was also the place where he and Kurt met, had fallen in love. That was also something he wasn’t going to easily forget and another, happier memory that would forever be tied to Ohio and to Lima. In that sense, maybe the good might just outweigh the bad. 

              _______________________________________

“What do you think?" 

Kurt looked around what had once been the spare room, filled with junk and other paraphernalia, but was now empty and clear of all useless objects.  The crib that he had bought weeks earlier was standing in one corner. Even the dusty old carpet had been stripped back and rolled along each of the walls, ready to be removed and replaced with whatever he and Blaine chose.

He couldn’t quite believe it. 

"You and Carole did all of this?” Kurt asked, impressed. “It looks - it looks great! There’s so much space…”

“I thought I’d be good for you, for the baby to have a decent-sized nursery. It wouldn’t be so cramped, y'know? And you can always spend time in here together, with Blaine, you know, if you wanted to. There’s room for a couple chairs and some more furniture, and we’ll get it all painted and a new floor put down….”

Kurt  _definitely_  couldn’t believe it. His dad had done all of this. For him. For Blaine. For their baby - his grandson or granddaughter. 

“You didn’t have to do all this.”

“Yes, I  _did_. Kurt, you’re my son and you’re going to be a  _father_ , which makes me a grandfather. And I would be a pretty bad grandfather if I didn’t do something to help you out. It’s gonna be different soon, things are gonna change. I want to make sure you’re set up right for it, which means not having to do everything by yourself. That’s what grandparents are for, right?”

“Right.” Kurt couldn’t help but smile. “You really are the best dad in the world.”

“I know. You’ve told me twice. And-”

“-the mug I got you for Father’s Day.” Kurt finished. “I know. It doesn’t make it any less true, though.”

“You’re gonna be a great dad too, you know.” His dad said. “I can see it in you.”

“Only because I learnt from the best.” Kurt replied. 

“I’m serious. You and Blaine are gonna be great parents.”

Kurt smiled, looking at his feet to hide his face, pink with praise and oddly flustered. “Thanks, dad.”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. You’ll do just fine.”

                ____________________________________

August turned into September, the temperatures in Ohio dropped, and Kurt knew that he would have to make a decision regarding returning to NYADA fairly quickly, or risk losing his place there. 

He hadn’t really talked about it with Blaine. He didn’t want him to worry unnecessarily about what he was doing, or what he was planning to do. What he wanted was for Blaine to focus on himself and their baby, not stress himself out trying to look out for Kurt as well. 

Not that he managed to stop him from doing it. 

Blaine was always trying to get him to talk about going back to New York and NYADA and his job at Vogue, but every time he did, Kurt instantly deflected his questions with a kiss or a touch, hoping to distract him. And it worked, for the most part. But he continued to press, and one night Kurt was forced to answer. 

“I’m going to go back,” he said. “I have to. But I want to try and postpone it until after the holidays. NYADA is important, but you're  _more_  important. I don’t want to be in classes all day while you look after our baby by yourself. And I don’t want to miss the baby being born because I have classes, either. So I’m going to try and push it back as far as I can.” He thought for a moment. “D'you think NYADA grants paternity leave for new parents? And would students count?”

To his surprise, Blaine laughed. “Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself? And I understand that you don’t want to go back to class straight away. And, if I’m being honest and a little selfish, I don’t want you to, either. I want to have as much time with you as possible. Babies are hard. I don’t want to go through those first few months on my own.”

It was the first time Blaine had admitted to having fears about parenthood, at least explicitly and in specific terms. 

“You won’t.” Kurt promised. “I’ll be right there with you. I’ll figure something out at NYADA.  _I won’t leave you on your own_.”

               _______________________________________

The next day, a phone call disrupted the calming silence of the afternoon. Kurt’s cell phone. 

Kurt, looking over to where Blaine was fast asleep against one end of the couch, hands folded protectively over his stomach, hurried to answer it before it could wake him up. 

“Hello?”

“Ah, Mr. Hummel. I received your email regarding your….circumstances and your queries about postponing your study at NYADA.”

It was Carmen Tibideaux. Calling him about NYADA. He’d only sent the e-mail that morning, unsure of whether she would read it immediately, or even respond to it that same day. 

“Oh. And - is it possible?” He looked over to Blaine again, still sleeping, still blissfully oblivious. Sleep made him look much younger. “You have to tell me that it’s possible.”

“It is. But you’ll have to come to the student admissions office at NYADA and discuss your situation with the admissions officer, who will arrange to have your 2013 entry postponed until January. And I am afraid that you will have to do this as soon as possible, or I may not be able to offer you the option that you want.”

Kurt paused for a moment, considering. “How soon do you need to see me?”

“The latest meeting I have available is next Monday.”

Next  _Monday_. That was only a week away. 

“And the earliest?”

“Wednesday morning at 9am sharp.”

Two days from now. 

Taking deep breaths, Kurt thought hard. Could he really leave Blaine so abruptly? He recalled his words from the night before;  _I won’t leave you on your own_. 

But it would only take a couple of days. He would be back by Thursday night, maybe sooner if he could get an earlier flight. He didn’t have to be gone for long. 

“I’ll take the Wednesday morning meeting." 

Afterwards, when he’d ended the call and replaced his cell phone on the coffee table, he felt an inexplicable sense of guilt.

Guilt that he was leaving Blaine when he’d promised he wouldn’t. Guilt that he was actually looking forward to going back to New York, to the sights and sounds of the city, even if it was just for a few days. Guilt that he felt guilty about both those things, because they shouldn’t even be an issue. 

So when Blaine slowly stirred awake an hour or so later, and Kurt was still in the same place, gnawing on his bottom lip in a worried way, he decided to just tell him.

"I’m going to New York. To sort out my plans for NYADA.”

“Oh?” Blaine said sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. “When?”

Kurt pressed his lips together until they became a thin line. “I’ll have to leave tomorrow. The earliest meeting I could get with student admissions was Wednesday morning. I’m really sorry, Blaine. I promised I wouldn’t leave you, and - now I am.”

“Hey, hey. It’s only for a few days, right?” Kurt nodded. “I can manage by myself. I’m probably just going to be resting up and looking at baby stuff anyway, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Now go pack. You don’t want to be rushing around tomorrow panicking that you’re going to be late.”

Kurt smiled. “You know me too well.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

“Are you sure you’re okay, honey? Is there anything I can get for you?”

Blaine waved away Carole’s concerns with a shake of his head. “It’s alright. I’m fine, really. I just need to stay off my feet for a while.”

Which was true. His feet had become very swollen seemingly overnight, and it was painful to walk. He half-wished that Kurt was there to rub his feet and sore ankles, but he was in New York, negotiating leave from NYADA so that he could be there when the baby came. 

It was only seven weeks away. 

“Well, if you’re sure. If you change your mind, just give me a shout, okay?”

Blaine nodded, and Carole drifted back into the kitchen. She meant well, but he had a feeling that Kurt had told her to keep an eye on him while he was in New York, 

He stretched himself out along the couch in the Hudson-Hummel living room, his back propped against the arm of the couch with two cushions. His feet were balanced on a third cushion at the other end. Even from this angle he could see how puffy they were, and experimentally wiggled his toes to try and get the blood flowing and help bring the swelling down. 

 

It was strange how much he missed Kurt. It was silly, really, since he’d only be gone for a few days and he’d only the previous afternoon, but he missed him already. He supposed that he’d become so used to having him around, having him so close, that any kind of absence would feel wrong. 

But it was important that Kurt had gone. It was for their sake that he was going to be away, and their baby’s sake. And it was only for a few days. He’d gone much longer without him before - but he immediately pulled himself away from those memories. It still stung, even after all this time, to remember what that had been like. 

 _Don’t think about it_ , he told himself firmly.  _It’s all over now. You're_ both _moving into a new chapter in your lives_. 

His hands went almost instantly to his stomach, rubbing over his shirt and feeling the baby move - almost imperceptibly now, because there wasn’t really much space anymore for it  _to_ move, but he could still feel it under his palms, responding to his touch. It reminded him even more forcefully of Kurt, and he tried to push away the longing that began to burn in his chest. 

 _Just a few more days,_ he told himself over and over again,  _just a few more days_.

                    _________________________________

Kurt hated being made to wait.

The discussion with student administration had gone well, he’d thought; they’d seemed to be sympathetic to his situation and eager to make an arrangement that suited him. Carmen Tibideaux had remained silent throughout the discussion, making notes on a pad as she turned her head occasionally in the direct of whoever happened to be speaking. 

And how he had to wait, because they were talking privately with Ms. Tibideaux in the administration office and sooner or later they would come out and hand out his fate. 

Maybe he was being a little over-dramatic. But he so, so desperately wanted to make this work and he wanted - no, he  _needed_  - this to go well. If nothing could be done, and he’d be forced to go back to school, he wasn’t sure how he was going to explain it to Blaine that he wouldn’t be able to be with him for the end of his pregnancy or the birth of their child.

Put it this way: tt wasn’t something he wanted to do any time soon.

He crossed and uncrossed his legs, biting down on his bottom lip as he cast his eyes around the narrow room where he’d been instructed to wait. A clock on the wall said it was 11:11am. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been waiting, or how much longer he was expected to wait.

He’d promised to call Blaine as soon as he was given an answer. He took out his cellphone, hovering over Blaine’s number, staring at it in a way that he’d hoped might make them reach a decision faster so that he could share the news - either good or bad.

Eventually, the door opened and Carmen Tibideaux came out, regal and oozing professionalism. There was no indication on her face of what they had decided. 

“We’d like to invite you back in to speak with us to make some final arrangements." 

Kurt jumped up, wiping his suddenly clammy palms on his jeans. "Absolutely.” He hated the way his voice shook with nerves. There was so much riding on this; his future, his and Blaine’s future, their family’s future. 

The door to the office closed behind them and he took a seat, the same seat he’d sat in before. 

“I think you’ll be pleased to hear that we’ve been able to make some arrangements for you, Mr. Hummel, a makeshift paternity leave if you will. It will excuse you from your classes until January. Until then you’re free to spend time with your new family, but you will be expected to resume your studies at NYADA promptly as soon as the semester resumes.”

Kurt would later be embarrassed about the way his mouth dropped open in surprise, hands trembling at his sides as his mind caught up with the student administration officer’s words. 

“Of-of course. Thank you! Thank you so much!” He reached out to shake both officers’ hands. “Thank you!” he kept saying, not sure how else to respond. It seemed like a miracle; something that he’d thought was impossible, but alas, it had happened. 

Things must just have been in his favour.

“Oh, and Mr. Hummel - congratulations.” Carmen Tibideaux, in her slow, resounding voice, spoke as Kurt made toward the door. She was half-smiling. 

Kurt all but bounced out of the door, cellphone already in hand, Blaine’s number ready and waiting to be called. 

                 ________________________________________

“D'you think my face is swollen? I think my face is swollen." 

Kurt looked up from his paint swatches to where Blaine was scrutinizing himself in the mirror, something that he’d taken to doing a lot recently. He was frowning and poking at his cheeks miserably. 

"Don’t be ridiculous. You look handsome and dreamy, as always." 

But this didn’t comfort Blaine; he continued to frown at his own reflection, clearly unhappy with what he saw. 

Abandoning the paint swatches - various shades of yellow, blue, and green among the - Kurt slid off the bed and went to stand next to Blaine by the mirror, both their reflections now visible. 

"See?” Kurt said, nudging Blaine’s shoulder playfully. “Handsome and dreamy.”

“I don’t really feel like it right now,” Blaine replied. He stretched slightly, pressing both palms flat against the base of his spine, wincing at the pain the movement caused. He was pretty sure the baby was pressed right up against his spine and it was  _uncomfortable_. “But it’s still nice to hear it. I’m just glad you’re back home. I missed you.”

“I was gone three days, Blaine.” But Kurt understood what Blaine meant. It had been difficult for him, too. 

“Three days too long.” Blaine pressed. “Any time away from you is too long.”

“Okay, Mr Clingy, I think it’s time for bed.” Kurt said, a smile tugging at his lips as he gently pulled Blaine in the direction of said bed. “You look tired, and you always get clingy when you’re tired. You should sleep.”

“But I thought we were going to look at paint swatches for the nursery tonight?”

Kurt pushed Blaine onto the bed, made quick work of unbuttoning his cardigan. “That can wait. You need to sleep.”

“Really? Because it looks a lot like you’re trying to undress me for something a little more….active than sleeping.”

Pushing his cardigan off his shoulders and discarding, Kurt made for his shirt, gripping the hem in both hands. He grinned. “Well, if it comes to that, I wouldn’t complain." 

Blaine rolled his eyes, leaned upwards to kiss him, reached down to cover Kurt’s hands with his own. "Even if my face is swollen?” He murmured against the soft skin of Kurt’s cheek. 

“Even if your face is swollen.” Kurt promised. He moved to press short, sweet kisses to Blaine’s lips, all the while inching his shirt up, exposing the smooth, warm skin of his stomach. Thin silvery-pink stretch marks ran up from beneath the waistband of Blaine’s pants, and when Kurt brushed his fingers over them, Blaine gasped and wriggled away from Kurt’s touch.

“Sensitive?” Kurt murmured, moving to cup Blaine’s stomach with both hands, pushing his shirt up higher. 

“A little,” Blaine replied, going pink. “More ticklish than anything, though." 

"Mmmmhmmm,” came the murmur against his lips in reply, hands pushing him backwards so that he was leaning against the pillows. Kurt climbed up onto the bed, sitting astride Blaine’s legs. He was careful not to put too much of his weight onto him, and stayed clear of his stomach, not wanting to hurt or put pressure on their baby. 

“So I guess we’re not sleeping any more, huh?” Blaine said, trying to suppress a yawn as he let his eyes droop half-closed, watching Kurt through his fluttering eyelashes. 

“You relax,” Kurt said, smoothing his hands over Blaine’s thighs, feeling the strong muscle of them.  "I’ll take care of you.“

"Promise you won’t get mad if I fall asleep?" 

"I promise. And I could never get mad at you. Not for long.” He paused. “Not any more.”

That was all Blaine really needed to hear. He leaned further back, closed his eyes, and let himself become lost in Kurt’s touch.

            ________________________________________

The following week, they were visited again by the midwife, Sandra, and she wasn’t slow to ask them the most important question that they were going to have to be thinking about over the next few weeks - how they were going to approach the birth.

It was obvious, of course, that Blaine would be having a C-section since he lacked the necessary anatomy to give birth, but it wasn’t until Sandra had asked them specifically about their plans for the big day that they realized that neither of them had a clue what exactly those plans would be. 

They looked at each other nervously, exchanging matching looks of worry. Sandra smiled.

“Don’t worry,” she said, “it’s fairly simple, and there’s still lots of time to get to grips with some of the basic things you’ll need to know. Putting it briefly, you’ll usually be admitted to the hospital around two to three hours beforehand. That gives your doctor enough time to do a last-minute examination, check that everything’s okay, and give the go-ahead. The surgery itself usually doesn’t take very long, as long as there are no complications, which is rare unless the C-section is an emergency procedure and there’s a high risk.”

The words  _emergency procedure_  and  _high risk_  and  _complications_  flashed like warning signs at the front of Kurt’s mind, and he gripped Blaine’s hand tightly; a knee-jerk reaction. Sandra noticed. 

“I promise, it’s really not as scary as you might be anticipating. We do have to cover all the bases and be prepared for any event, but honestly, in ninety percent of cases things go brilliantly for both parents and the baby, so you really do have nothing to worry about." 

"What about the other ten percent?” Kurt asked in a small voice, swallowing hard with a throat that had suddenly gone dry. 

“Kurt, really,” Blaine soothed, “it’ll be fine. You’re thinking about it too much.”

Kurt sighed. “You’re right. I am. I guess I’m just panicking a little because it’s so close.”

“You don’t need to worry. Every birth is different, naturally, but things usually go very well." 

Blaine gave him a look that said,  _See? There’s nothing to worry about_. 

"One thing I have to forewarn you about is the possibility of going into labour naturally before your C-section. I noticed that you’ve indicated to Dr. Marshall that you want to wait until the day of your due date to have the surgery, which would be October 26th, which means that there is a risk of that happening. If that  _does_  happen, call either me or Dr. Marshall straight away and we’ll come out to you here, at home, and go from there.”

It was Blaine’s turn to look anxious, his jaw set and looking straight at the floor. He didn’t really want to be in that kind of situation, but if it happened, he’d just have to cope with it as best he could. 

“Is there anything else you wanted to ask while I’m here? I still need to do an examination and a few tests, and we’ll do a sonogram as well if that’s okay with the both of you, but apart from that is there anything else you want some advice or information on?" 

"I don’t think so.” Blaine said. “I think that’s it.”

Kurt nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I think that’s all for now.” Anxiety still niggled in his stomach, but he ignored it for the time being. It wouldn’t do either of them any good if he worried. And besides, he didn’t want to put any stress on Blaine. He really didn’t need it right now.

Sandra did an ultrasound, showing them how big the baby was now (“Still a bit on the small side, but it’s not a big problem”) and told Blaine that he should expect to feel less movement now that he was coming up to the end of his pregnancy and the baby would be running out of room. For this he was grateful; the relentless kicking, especially at night, had been making it difficult to sleep.

With nothing else to do or ask, she left, wishing them luck for the next few weeks and hoped to see them at the end of next month for the “big day”.

And that somewhat shocked Kurt into reality.

“We have just over a month left,” he kept repeating long after she’d gone. “A  _month_ , Blaine. Just one month. There’s so much we have to do in just one month! We don’t have  _time._ ”

Blaine simply kissed away Kurt’s fretting with a reassuring smile.

“We  _do_  have time. We’ll make time. Six weeks is still six weeks, that’s forty-two days. Plenty of time. Okay?”

“Okay.” Kurt sighed, when this happened. “Okay. I’ll try not to panic. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when I turn into a crazed hooligan worrying about everything from diapers to the price of baby formula.”

Blaine laughed. “Don't  _worry_ , Kurt. We’ll figure it out." 

For both their sakes, Kurt hoped Blaine was right. 


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

“I love how thick your hair is now,” Kurt said happily, running his fingers through Blaine’s curly hair. “It’s gorgeous, especially when you don’t glue it to your head with all that gel.”

Blaine snorted where his face was half-pressed into the pillow, eyes closed in a half-doze, in limbo between sleep and wakefulness. “It’s even more difficult to tame now than it was before. I hate my hair.”

“But it’s so…..curly,” Kurt insisted, winding one said curl round and round his finger before pulling it straight and letting it spring back. “It’s never been this curly before.”

“Trust me, it has. I spent my toddler years looking like I had a bush for hair. People thought that my father must have been a clown because my hair was so wild.”

“Okay, now you’re just exaggerating.”

With some difficulty, Blaine rolled into his back, stretching his arms out above his head. His nap was over; he was too awake now to go back to sleep. He stayed quiet for a few moments. 

 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Kurt asked, propping his chin on his elbow. He cocked his head to one side, making Blaine think of an inquisitive kitten. 

He shrugged. “Nothing. Everything.” He sighed. “Kurt, d'you think we’re prepared enough for this?”

“I don’t think any parent is 100% prepared, no matter how much time they give themselves." 

"That wasn’t my question.”

Kurt thought for a moment. “Absolutely. We’re absolutely prepared.”

But Blaine’s reluctance to confirm this statement, or even reply, put Kurt on edge. It seemed like he was constantly doubting himself, always second-guessing his thoughts or his feelings, and it was something that Kurt had noticed more and more frequently. 

He reached out across the bed to link Blaine’s fingers with his own. It was meant as a gesture of comfort, but Blaine’s gaze remained glued to the ceiling above them. He refused to look at Kurt, or anywhere else in the room. 

After a while, Blaine fell asleep. Kurt knew that because his hand went limp, and slid out of his grasp. 

            ________________________________________________

Over the next few days, it seemed like Blaine had forgotten their conversation about “being prepared”. He was mostly his usual cheery self, doing his best not to complain about the constant pain in his back or how sore his swollen feet were so as not to dampen the mood.

It was difficult, of course. Sometimes, he just wanted to stay on the couch and never move again, for fear of the bone-deep ache he felt in his spine and pelvis whenever he did.

Kurt helped, though. A simple kiss on the cheek or the touch of his hand on the small of his back could make him feel better.

It also helped to remind himself, when the pain was particularly bad or when he felt he couldn’t walk another step, that there was only five weeks left until they would meet their son or daughter. For him, that was the biggest motivator of them all to keep going and to not give in when he received yet another bruise on his shin from walking into the side of the coffee table, unable to see his feet to know where he was placing them. 

             ________________________________________

“Did you know that the baby now has a complete set of toes and fingernails?” Blaine asked as Kurt came back into the room holding the blue hot water bottle he’d bought him a few months previously, which was now filled with hot water and waiting to be placed on Blaine’s aching back. He rubbed his stomach a few times, over the spot where he had felt the baby settle. It hadn’t moved much in the last few days and he was coping to coax it into some activity. It was a reminder that it was really there - that this, despite all these past months that proved it, was still really happening to them.

“And fully-developed kidneys,” Kurt points out. Seeing the confused expression on Blaine’s face, he adds, “you’re not the only one who’s been doing some research. Sit up?”

Reluctantly, he does so. Kurt slid the hot water bottle underneath him so that it was resting against the small of his back, where the pain was at its worst. Blaine sat back again, and the effects were instantaneous. He felt better already - or perhaps that was just Kurt’s magic touch. 

Kurt slid down the bed till he was at eye level with Blaine’s stomach. 

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Just….watching. You. Watching you. Thinking about how amazing you are.”

If Blaine had blushed, Kurt didn’t see it; he was too preoccupied with his current position to be looking at his face. 

“Even when I’m bloated and the size of a small whale with horrible swollen feet?”

Kurt propped his chin on his folded hands, smiling. “Even then.”

“Well, you only have five more weeks of this. Then I’ll be back to normal." 

"With a new baby to look after? I doubt things will be  _normal_. But we’ll make it work, because we always do and it’s our thing, making things work.”

“Mmm-hmm. So you're  _not_  agreeing to use reusable diapers for the first couple of months?”

“We're  _not_  using reusable diapers, Blaine. We’ve been through this. We’re using disposable ones. The environment will just have to suffer so that our child doesn’t get a diaper rash, which is more important to me than saving the world. Call me selfish, but I will not now nor ever use disposable diapers for my children. They’re unhygienic and gross.”

While Kurt did his miniature rant, Blaine couldn’t help but smile at how passionate he sounded, even if he  _was_  talking about diapers. 

“Children? As in…more than one?” Blaine probed, an inquisitive expression on his face. 

“Of course.” Kurt said, rubbing Blaine’s stomach and lifting the hem of his shirt so he could press a kiss to the warm, stretched skin. “You didn’t think we were going to stop after this one, did you?”

“At least let me recover properly first, okay? I don’t understand how some women can just continually be pregnant and have kids over and over. Wouldn’t they just get worn out all the time?”

“I promise I’ll let you recover fully and completely before we have any more kids, and you can hold me to that because I definitely plan to be with you at  _least_  long enough to have three kids. And a dog. Or maybe a cat, they’re less messy.”

“You think about what pets we’re going to have?” Blaine couldn’t stop his earlier smile from spreading across his face now. 

“Absolutely,” Kurt said, tracing random patterns on the skin of Blaine’s forearm, making the dark hairs there stand on end. “I think about everything to do with what our life is going to be like. Don’t you?”

“Since the day I got up the courage to ask you out.” Blaine admits, his cheeks colouring a pretty, dark pink. He ducked his head and looked away, embarrassed to have been so honest, but Kurt didn’t mind. His honesty was one of his favourite parts of Blaine. “I thought about it even when we weren’t together,” he continued, braver now, “on the off-chance that you might consider taking me back.”

Kurt moved slightly to pillow his head on Blaine’s thigh, the material of his sweatpants soft against his cheek. 

“I never gave up on you, you know,” he said. “I wanted to. I tried to force myself to give up, but…somehow I couldn’t. I guess I know why, now. I just can’t stay away from you no matter how hard I might want to try.”

“I do have that effect on people.” Blaine was grinning, the bashfulness gone.

Kurt lightly smacked his thigh, playful, muttering “obnoxious showoff” under his breath - but he was grinning, too. He never could seem to stop smiling whenever Blaine was around. 

“I’m tired,” Kurt breathed, tracing shapes on Blaine’s thigh with his fingers. 

“It’s only eight,” Blaine said. “However…why don’t we just turn in early? To be honest, I could use the rest. It’s taking me twice the amount of energy to do the most simple things right now.”

Kurt pouted in sympathy. “Poor baby. But that  _does_  sound like a good idea….”

“Go on, get changed into your most comfortable clothes and be right back. If I fall asleep between now and then, blame all the extra energy I’ve been using up.”

Kurt didn’t have to be told twice. 

           _____________________________________________

Thirty-six weeks.

That meant, according to the research he’d done online, that he was now considered to be full-term, and if was a woman with all the relevant anatomical equipment, it would mean that the baby could be born any time within the next four weeks.

Even though he  _wasn’t_  a woman, there was no use trying to kid himself that the possibility of having the baby as early as the very next day terrified him.

The midwife, Sandra, had told them that it was possible he’d go into labour early. If that happened, he would have to go into the hospital and they’d give him drugs to stop the contractions - if that was a viable option.

It was terrifying. More than perhaps he’d imagined it would be, and more than Kurt thought that  _he_  thought it was. 

He pretended that he was just as excited as Kurt was - no, that wasn’t entirely accurate. He  _was_  excited. Really, he was. But he’d heard the horror stories, of women who’d endured downright horrific labour, of emergency home births and surgeries, of pain-relief drugs simply not working or making some women ill.

It was enough to scare anyone, he thought, never mind someone like him. He was still  _young_  - they both were. Everyone says that you always get more nervous than you usually would when it was your first baby, but Blaine was pretty sure that the sudden difficulty to draw air into his lungs every time he thought about it wasn’t just due to the fact that the baby was taking up most of the space in his body.

And he just didn’t know how to talk to Kurt about it. 

The person he really needed was his Mom, and as pathetic as that sounded for someone his age, it was true.

If he couldn’t talk to Kurt, then he could talk to her. At the very least it might make him feel even a little bit better, and stop him from having to lie to Kurt about the  _real_ reason he’d been awake most nights, unable to sleep, worrying about the future and whether or not he’d be able to cope with it. 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

“Can we look now?” Kurt asked - though it was more of a groan. Burt and Carole had practically kidnapped them as he and Blaine had come through the door, back from a short walk around the block because Blaine had been complaining that he seizing up from sitting still for too long. 

They’d both been blindfolded with Carole’s scarves and had been shepherded up the stairs, Kurt emphatically warning Blaine to  _be careful._ The last thing he wanted was for something to happen while they had been deprived of their sight. _  
_

“No. Just keep going a few more steps.”

“But I can't  _see.”_

 _“_ That’s kind of the point, kid. It’s supposed to be surprise.” This was his father. 

“I don’t like surprises.” Kurt muttered, feeling slightly put out, as he was maneuvered onto the hall that stretched along the top of the house. He swore he heard Blaine chuckle under his breath, which he tried to disguise by coughing. 

 

“C'mon, Kurt. It’s fun!” Blaine said. “Although I do need to sit down…I think the walk wore me out.”

“You can once you’ve seen your surprise, don’t worry,” Carole reassured him. “It’ll only take five minutes.”

Stumbling slightly, they were ushered to the right and Kurt heard a door opening, though he couldn’t say to which room it was. He swore he could  _sense_  his father and Carole exchange conspiratorial looks behind his back, or wherever it was they were. 

 _“Voila!_ " 

The blindfolds were untied and taken away, Burt and Carole both beaming.

Kurt’s jaw dropped.

They were in the storage room, except it didn’t look like a storage room any more.

It looked like a nursery.

The walls had been painted a soft, light blue, and bright white clouds had been stenciled on, to make it look like the sky. The crib, fully assembled, had been painted white and it had already been made with a soft blanket and the smallest pillow Kurt had ever seen, perfect for a baby.

Next to it were two large wicker baskets, filled to the brim with everything you could imagine a newborn baby  might  need - everything from toys and bottles, tiny socks and shoes, to pyjamas and everyday clothes, burping cloths and baby shampoo.

"I know you wanted to keep the sex of the baby a surprise, so we made it gender neutral so it won’t matter whether it’s a boy or a girl.” Burt said. “You can always add your own stuff later, y'know, if and when you need to.”

“It’s perfect.” Kurt said, finding it difficult to speak. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, sweetie. We wanted to do this for you. It’ll at least take some of the pressure off because those first few weeks are going to be stressful and you’ll need all the time you can get.” Carole replied, putting her hand on Kurt’s shoulder in a way that brought a lump to his throat. 

“Stressful?” was all Blaine could manage to say. The fear in his voice was clear. “How stressful?”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. We’ll be right here if you need us.” Burt said. 

“It’ll be okay, Blaine. I know it’s scary but you’re not going to be alone. You have me, remember?” Kurt reminded him, reaching out to hold his hand now that he could see him. He could see the wetness of Blaine’s eyes and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down when he swallowed, blinking back tears. 

He hated that Blaine felt like this, and he hated that there was nothing he could actually do about it. 

“We’ll leave you two for a while.” Carole said, “You should rest, Blaine.”

“Thank you.” Kurt said again, giving Blaine’s hand a squeeze. “Really. This is amazing.”

When they left, Kurt turned to Blaine, concern plain in his expression. He desperately wanted to make whatever was making Blaine feel this way disappear, but knew that he probably wouldn’t be able to. It was a pregnancy thing, he could tell, and it was something he wouldn’t be able to empathize with. 

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling him closer. “Do you want to just do nothing for the rest of the day? Because we can do that. Maybe watch a couple of movies, or just sleep, if that’s what you want.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said thickly. “I’m sorry for being so - so -  _dramatic_  and emotional and a mess, and I know it’s probably just be being stupid and overreacting but I  _can’t help it_. I can’t help it, Kurt. I can’t help the way I feel.”

That just about broke Kurt’s heart. 

Silently, he brought him closer to him, as close as he could get given the fact that their baby got in the way - not that Kurt really minded that. He wrapped one arm around Blaine’s waist, the other coming to rest on the low curve of his stomach in a protective gesture meant to make Blaine feel safe, or at least comforted. 

“I’m sorry,” Blaine repeated, pressing his cheek to the line of Kurt’s neck. “It’s just really hard for me right now. I just want the baby to get here already so I can feel  _normal_ again.”

“You don’t have to be sorry for anything,” Kurt replied. “You’ve already done so much. I can’t ask much more of you now, and I’m not going to. It’ll be over soon, and we can stop waiting and start being parents.”

“Three weeks is too long.” Blaine said softly, his voice muffled by the fabric of Kurt’s shirt and the way he was pressed into his neck. 

Kurt had to agree.

                   _______________________________________

As it turned out, shopping for baby clothes and accessories online was a great way to distract Blaine from his internal troubles and anxieties.

It didn’t entirely take away the bad feelings, but it helped, and Kurt could see that for himself in the way his face lit up with delight whenever he spotted something he really liked.

Which ended up being a lot of things. 

“I’m glad this is cheering you up, Blaine, I really am, but we need to stick to a budget here.” Kurt reminded him. “I would happily buy out the entire newborn section of Babies R’ Us but we just don’t have that kind of money. So go slow, okay? At least, try not to go overboard.”

After that, he tried to restrict himself to the things that he knew he and Kurt could absolutely afford, but sometimes he just couldn’t help himself but slip some of the more pricey things into the shopping cart.

And, well, if it kept Blaine happy, Kurt couldn't  _really_  complain all that much when he spotted them when Blaine left to use the bathroom.

Besides, he agreed with all of Blaine’s choices and if he hadn’t had chosen them he probably would have himself at some point anyway. 

And the tiny white sleep-suit with the rabbit ears on the removable hood really was just the cutest thing he’d ever seen.

              _____________________________________________

Kurt was roused from sleep by sounds coming from the kitchen. He rolled onto his back and turned to see if Blaine had heard it - except he wasn’t there.

Sliding out of bed, he pulled on his robe and loosely tied it around his waist, flicking on the lamp on the nightstand. The door was cracked open a few inches; Blaine must not have closed it on his way out for fear of waking Kurt if he did. 

More noises from the kitchen alerted Kurt to the reason why he’d got out of bed in the first place, so upon checking that his dad and Carole were still fast asleep in their own room (they were) and passing the storage-room-turned-nursery for a fleeting second just for another look at the place their child would be sleeping in just a few weeks’ time, he went downstairs, careful not to make too much noise.

As he’d suspected, Blaine was in the kitchen - the light was on and he could hear the scrape of a chair across the tiled floor. 

Blaine himself was slumped over the table, his head in his hands, and that set off alarm bells in Kurt’s head.

“Blaine? Is everything okay?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you up,” he replied. “You should - go back to bed. I’m fine. I just need to - sit here for a while.”

“Why?”

He wasn’t stupid, and nor was he naive enough to take Blaine’s words at face value. 

“Back pain,” he said through gritted teeth. “I came down here for some pills, but it - it got worse. Now I can’t move. Happy?”

Kurt ignored his snappy tone. “Do you need anything? Something that might help? You know, you shouldn’t be sitting like that. It’ll make it worse.”

A pause.

“Please, tell me how I can help, Blaine. I want to help. If you’re in pain, I want to make it better for you.”

“I just need to be alone for a while until it wears off. Then I’ll be fine, Kurt, I promise. Just - go back to bed. Don’t worry about me.”

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re okay.”

“ _Kurt_ , I’m fine. It’s not a big deal. I just-” he cut off with a sharp gasp, gripping the edge of the table with both hands so hard this his knuckles turned white.  "O _h_ ,  _God_. Oh, God.“

"What? What’s wrong?”

But Blaine could only groan in response, squeezing the edge of the table as hard as his strength would allow. Kurt could see the sweat starting to bead along his hairline and the back of his neck, turning the collar of his pyjama shirt dark. 

“What is it?” Kurt asked again, more urgently. “Tell me!”

“I think-” he began, but stopped, taking great, shuddering breaths. He groaned again, lower this time, and again he gripped the edge of the table as hard as he could. 

“ _What?_ ”

“You need - to call Sandra, or Dr. Marshall, or the hospital, I don’t care -  _oh_ ,  _no, that hurts, it hurts like hell_  - I need you call  _someone_  and tell them - tell them-”

“Tell them  _what?_ ”

“I'm in  _labour_. I’m in labour three weeks early, and I don’t think they’re going to be able to stop the contractions. We’re having our baby  _tonight_.”

___________________________________

Kurt’s first instinct is to panic.

His second is to charge into the living room like a bull in a china-shop, yank the cordless telephone from its holder on the coffee table, and come back into the kitchen, breathing hard and trying to remember the order of the digits in Dr. Marshall’s phone number.

Blaine hasn’t moved from his chair, but Kurt can see the way his shoulders heave with the effort of breathing through the obvious pain that he’s in. 

And that brings Kurt back to reality somewhat. 

 

“Are you calling someone?” Blaine asks timidly, without looking up.

“I am now, Blaine. I promise. I just panicked. I have the phone right here, see?,” Kurt explained. “I hope she picks up…”

“Don’t say that!” Blaine exclaims, breathing hard through another contraction. “Just - do it.”

Sinking into another chair, Kurt dialed the number for Dr. Marshall’s home address. If she wasn’t there, he’d have to call her on her cellphone, and if that didn’t work, their next option was Sandra and they’d have to hope that tonight wasn’t her night off. They-  _Blaine_ _-_ needed her. 

Mercifully, she picked up after just a few rings.

“Hello?”

“It’s - it’s Kurt,” Kurt said. “I hope I’m not disturbing you, I just - don’t know who to call. I’m not sure how these things work and I thought I’d see if you were available first.”

“What’s the problem, Kurt? Is everything alright?”

“No. I mean, yes. I don’t know. Um -  _Blaine'sinlabourandIdon'twanthimtoworrybutI'mfreakingout.”_

_“_ Kurt, slow down. Tell me what the problem is.”

“Blaine’s in labour. I don’t know for how long, I haven’t asked him. But it sounds pretty bad and I don’t know how to help. He said - he said that he doesn’t think the contractions can be stopped.”

“Can you put him on the phone so that I can speak with him?”

Kurt looked over to Blaine, who was bent double with his forehead resting on the cool wood of the table. Every few seconds he would gasp and whimper, his shoulders heaving with the effort of not yelling out loud. 

“I don’t think he’s up to much talking right now.” Kurt said, swallowing past the dryness in his throat. His hand was clammy and his grip on the phone was slippery. “ _What am I supposed to do?_ ”

“Okay, listen carefully, Kurt, because I’m going to give you some instructions. I’m going to call the hospital and let them know that things are moving and to expect you sometime tonight. I’ll also call Sandra and tell her to be waiting for you there. I would send her to your home, but there isn’t enough time.”

“And what do I do?”

“Keep Blaine comfortable, and support him. If it’s as bad as you say, he’ll need all the care he can get. I also need you to work out how far apart the contractions are. Do that, and then call me back and I’ll see where we need to go from there. Okay?”

Kurt nodded, then remembered she couldn’t see him on the other end of the line. “Okay. Yes - yes, I can do that. Yes. I’ll do that.”

“And Kurt?”

“Yeah?”

“Stay calm. The last thing you both need is for you to panic.”

_Easier said that done when my boyfriend is in labour three weeks early and nothing is planned and I feel like a headless chicken running round and round in circles that doesn’t know it doesn’t have a head anymore_.

But he just said, “Okay,” again, and hung up the phone. 

_Now what?_

“What did she say?” Blaine asked. “What happens now?”

“She’s going to call the hospital and Sandra and tell them to wait for us. And she said that you have to work out how far apart your contractions are. And that you need to get comfortable.” He hated how nervous he sounded, how unsure of himself he appeared to his own ears. 

“Eight minutes,” Blaine grunted, gritting his teeth against another wave of pain. “That’s how far apart they are. I measured them.”

_How is he more organized than I am?_  Kurt thought.  _I’m losing my head here and Blaine’s already one step ahead of me_.  _Well, I suppose he_ is  _the one who’s in labour_.

“Can you - help me get into the next room?” he asked, his breathing harsh. “It might be easier if I sit on the couch or something instead of this hard chair. Then again, it can’t really make it any -  _ouch_  - worse.”

“Of course. Of course. Whatever you need.” Kurt stood up, pushing back his chair and gritting his teeth against the scrape of the wooden legs against the kitchen tiles. 

“Lean on me, and I’ll help you up,” Kurt said, coming around to Blaine’s side of the table. He wrapped one arm securely around Kurt’s middle and slowly pushed back his own chair, face screwed up with effort and pain. “Take it easy. Don’t rush. I’ve got you.”

“I can’t do it, Kurt.” Blaine groaned, shaking his head. “It hurts too much.”

“Yes, you can,” Kurt said. “I’ve got you, you’re not going anywhere. It’s just a few steps, then you can sit or lie down on the couch or whatever you want, okay?”

“No,” Blaine panted, “no, Kurt, I can’t. It -  _oh_ ,  _God_ ,  _oh, God_  - hurts so much.”

Kurt bit his lip worriedly. He had to get Blaine off the hard, cold, unyielding chair and onto something more comfortable. It probably didn’t feel like it, but it would be much better for him if he did. 

“You’ll feel better when you’re more comfortable,” Kurt promised. “I mean it. You have to try. Try it for me?”

Blaine, lips set into a hard line, nodded reluctantly. 

“Okay, I want you to stand up on my count. One….two….. _three.”_

Kurt flinched when Blaine cried out in pain at the sudden shift in position; he buried his face in Kurt’s shoulder, drawing the fabric of his pyjama shirt between his teeth and leaving a wet, round bite mark.

“Ssssh,” Kurt soothed him. “You did it! Okay. Now you need to walk over to the living room.”

“ _Can’t_ ,” Blaine protested. “Can’t do it. I  _can’t_.”

“You can’t stay here, either. You know that. You’ll feel better when you’re there, I promise. I promise, Blaine.” Kurt was feeling desperate, knowing that all he had were empty words. Words that wouldn’t help Blaine. 

_Oh, God_ , Kurt thought.  _This is really happening. This is really, actually happening._

And then he thought,  _Don’t panic_.  _Don’t panic. Don'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'tpanicdon'topanic DON’T PANIC_.

“Kurt?”

“I’m here. I’m here. I just zoned out for a moment there.”

“Kurt? Is that you?” A voice called out - and it wasn’t Blaine this time. “Is everything okay?”

The hall light came on. Carole was stood at the top of the stairs, belting her robe around her waist, over her pyjamas. 

“Um,” Kurt began, not quite sure how to explain. If he was honest, he’d completely forgotten that his dad and Carole were still upstairs, fast asleep and unaware that their grandchild was currently trying to make his or her entrance into the world. 

But another whimper from Blaine and an almost painful tightening of his grip on Kurt’s waist forced him back into the present. 

“Fortunately, you’re here just at the right time.” Kurt said. “Blaine’s - in labour.  _Real_ labour. And I need your help to get him into the living room so he can get into some kind of position that’ll be more comfortable, but he’s very heavy and in a lot of pain and I can’t move him by myself.” He said all of this in a garbled rush, and then added, “No offense, Blaine.”

“Non taken,” was the gruff reply. “Can we move now?”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Carole asked, coming down the stairs and going into professional nurse-mode.  _Of course_ , Kurt realized only now,  _Carole’s a_ nurse _. Why didn’t I think of going to her first?_

Kurt mumbled something about “not wanting to wake her and dad up” at the same time that Blaine cried out again, muffling his sob of pain in Kurt’s shoulder.

Carole looked at him curiously. “How far apart are the contractions?”

“Eight minutes.” Kurt said. “Right?”

Blaine nodded, still hiding his face in Kurt’s shoulder, to confirm that it was indeed correct. 

“Okay. D'you you think you can move, sweetie? Me and Kurt will help you.”

Another nod. 

It took a few minutes - and fluctuating cooperation from Blaine, which Kurt didn’t really blame him for since he’d probably want to stay put if he was in his position - but they eventually got to the living room. Carole switched on the lamps, giving the room a warm, comforting glow, which Kurt thought might put them  _both_  more at ease. He’d read somewhere that low lighting encouraged a feeling of comfort and homeliness that helped during labour.

Kurt settled on the couch with Blaine at his side. They sat sideways, his back against Kurt’s chest and their fingers interlinked, holding on tightly. The intimacy, he thought, might help Blaine relax, if he knew Kurt was there and close to him. 

“Better?” he asked, pressing gentle kisses to the back of Blaine’s neck. 

“A little.” Blaine replied. “It’s - I feel more  _open_ , if that makes sense, but it doesn’t hurt as much. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Kurt whispered, releasing his hand from Blaine’s for a moment to rub wide circles over his round stomach. He could feel how tight the skin was underneath his pyjama shirt, stretched like the skin of a drum. It was one of those things that happened during labour, as the body reacted to the contractions. “Just try to relax.”

“It’s a little -  _hard,_ ouch - to relax right now.”

“I know. But just…just breathe. Don’t think about it. It’ll be over soon, and we’ll have our little family.”

“You should call Dr. Marshall, give her an update.” Blaine reminded him. “Tell her - it’ll be soon. See if she has any recommendations.”

Kurt hated moving away from him, but he’d have to let go in order to free his hands to make the phone call. He kept close, resting his free hand on the small of Blaine’s back the entire time, feeling him go rigid and tense up with each contraction.  _Hopefully she’ll tell us we can go in soon. Then he can have the surgery and we’ll have our baby and he won’t be in pain any more_.

As it turns out, Dr. Marshall told him that they were ready to receive them at the hospital - and that they should come in as soon as they were ready.

This made Kurt’s heart pound hard in his chest, hard enough to hurt. It was so  _soon_. It was happening  _right now_. 

“We have to go the hospital,” Kurt told Blaine, and Carole, who was perched on the arm of the couch. “Dr. Marshall says they’re ready for us.”

Blaine’s eyes, which had been drifting closed, flew open. “Hospital?”

“Yes. Now. They have an OR free that we - well, you - can use.”

“But….” Blaine began, looking down at himself in a mournful way that would have been comical in any other situation. “I’m not dressed.”

“I don’t think they’re gonna care what you’re wearing, honey,” Carole said sympathetically. “Besides, you’re better off as comfortable as possible, trust me. I’ve been there.”

Kurt made a face. “Too much information, Carole. And we need supplies…” he trailed off, that familiar panicky feeling rising in his chest again.  _They had nothing ready. Nothing had been packed yet. Because they hadn’t been expecting it_.

“I’ll wake your father and we’ll get what you need. You go on with Blaine to the hospital and we’ll meet you there - unless you’re unsure about driving? Because I can drive you if you want me to.”

He thought about this for a minute. “I can drive.” His voice sounded more determined than he felt. 

“Then that’s settled. You two go on ahead. I’ll sort out whatever you’ll need and bring it up afterwards, okay? And  _keep me posted_. I want to know everything. That’s my grandchild in there, you know.”

Kurt stifled a laugh, but couldn’t keep from smiling regardless. It was the first time Carole had referred to herself as a blood relative of Kurt’s. 

“You should - probably - let my parents know, too.” Blaine groaned, breath catching on the crest of the contraction, then going back to normal. “I didn’t think of them before - but - they should know. And we should probably tell the others - in Glee club, I mean. But maybe not right now. Right now, I just want to have this baby because I’ve waited thirty-seven weeks and I am  _so_  ready to be a father. Aren’t you?”

             _______________________________________

The drive to the hospital was both short and long. 

Short, because Lima in the early hours of the morning was almost completely deserted. They only passed one or two other cars and a truck on the road. There was a handful of people on the streets, nothing more.

It was quiet. Almost too quiet. 

The drive was long because every time Blaine groaned or whimpered in pain and asked Kurt in a small, worn-out voice, “Are we close yet?”, time seemed to drag on interminably. A thirty-second contraction felt like thirty minutes, more time for Blaine to be suffering. 

But eventually, they reached the hospital. And, just as she’d promised, Dr. Marshall was there, dressed in green hospital scrubs and pulling on medical gloves when they arrived, Kurt supporting Blaine, who was having trouble standing on his own due to the pressure on his back and hips caused by the labour.

“Do you need a chair? I can get you one if you don’t feel like walking?”

Blaine shook his head. “S'fine. I can manage.”

“You sure? It’s no problem. We have plenty here.”

“I’m sure.”

“Okay, then. I’ll show you to your room and a nurse will come by to prep you for your C-section. I hope you’re ready to meet your baby.”

With a smile and a snap of her latex gloves, she was walking down the corridor. It took Kurt a few seconds to realize that they needed to follow her. 

A short walk - with multiple stops so Blaine could catch his breath - later, they were shown to a small but neat room on the right-hand side of the maternity wing of the hospital. It was diagonally across from neo-natal care, which was filled with dozens of cots, ready for the babies being born here today and in the days and weeks and months to come.

He wondered if anyone else, any other couples, were having babies here tonight, the same time as they were. Maybe they were the only ones. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. 

After getting settled, they waited. Soon enough, a nurse came along, along with a tall doctor in a white coat over a pair of scrubs, green like Dr. Marshall’s had been. He also had on a pair of latex medical gloves. Kurt wondered if this was the surgeon performing the C-section. 

He was required to wait outside while they got Blaine ready for the OR, and he could faintly hear his groans of pain through the door. It wouldn’t be long now. He wiped his clammy palms on his pants and concentrated on not panicking; the last thing he wanted was to lose his head, especially in front of Blaine, who was probably just as worried and nervous, if not more so, than he was. 

_Why am_ I  _so nervous? I’m not the one having major surgery to remove a tiny human being from my body. Oh, crap. Now I’m panicking. Calm down, Kurt, you can’t let Blaine see you like this. Relax. Relaaaaax….Okay, I said relax, not meditate. Oh, God, I have no idea what I’m doing!_

“Mr. Hummel?”

It was the doctor - the surgeon, poking his head around the door to the room. 

“Would you like to come to the OR?”

“Oh - oh, yes. Yes,” he replied, a little too late to be convincing. 

“Nervous?” the surgeon asked, smiling. “Don’t worry. A lot of new parents are. You’re young, so it’s bound to be a little nerve-wracking, but I promise that your boyfriend and your baby will be in good hands. It’ll be over in no time.”

                  ____________________________________

The OR was scrubbed clean and smelled of sterilization fluid and latex and the faint leather smell of the operating table.

Kurt, dressed in the same green scrubs as the surgeon, whose name he had learned was Dr. Matthew Pearson, and the two nurses who were standing by a set of instruments that he didn’t want to look at too closely, went to stand next to where Blaine lay on the aforementioned table, a blue screen separating his lower body from his line of vision. He was pale, but his eyes were bright despite the tightness of his mouth. 

“This is it.” Kurt said. “No going back now.”

“Nope.” Blaine agreed. “No going back. God, I’ve waited so long for this. It’ll be amazing to finally meet our son or daughter.”

“And you’re not in any pain at all now?”

Blaine shook his head. “Completely numb from the waist down. It feels weird, actually. Like I don’t have any legs, even though I know they’re there. I can’t feel a thing.”

Kurt reached for Blaine’s hand and held it tight. “You ready?”

“Do I have a choice?”

Kurt laughed. “Not really.” Then he said, “I love you.”

Blaine smiled at him. “I love you, too.”

“Ready?” This was Dr. Pearson’s voice, coming from somewhere behind the blue screen where Kurt couldn’t see him. “I’m going to make the first incision. You might feel a bit of a pinch, and that’s normal. Just relax as much as possible and it’ll be over before you know it.”

Blaine tightened his grip on Kurt’s hand and drew in breath sharply; Kurt couldn’t help but smile and press a fleeting kiss to Blaine’s forehead, which was damp with sweat under his lips. 

Kurt couldn’t see what was going on, and for that he was mostly grateful. It was strange though, not knowing what was happening beyond the blue screen separating them from the surgeon and the nurses, who were on standby at his elbow for anything that might happen. His heart was racing; he could feel it beating in his ears, like a drum. He wondered whether the hand holding Blaine’s was clammy with sweat and, if so, whether Blaine minded or not. He probably didn’t.

“Okay, Blaine, we’re about halfway there now. Still feeling comfortable?”

“I guess,” Blaine replied. “I’m kind of stiff though….”

Dr. Pearson chuckled. “You will be. Don’t worry, you’ll be able to move around again in no time, but it’ll be limited because you’ll have quite a few stitches and you don’t want to open them accidentally.”

_Stitches?_  Kurt thought, bewildered.  _Oh, right. Of course. He’ll have to have stitches in his stomach. Why didn’t I think about that?_

It went quiet again for a few minutes, the only sounds coming from the rustling of Dr. Pearson’s scrubs as he moved and the clinking of metal instruments. 

Then an unpleasant sound like a plunger being pulled, and one of the nurses went forward, carrying what looked like a soft white towel.

“Congratulations,” she said, eyebrows raised and unable to keep herself from beaming in their direction. “You have a little baby boy. And he’s got a full head of hair, too.”

Kurt barely heard Blaine muttering,  _“Dammit_ ” under his breath; all he could think of was,  _It’s a boy. We have a boy. It’s a_ boy!

“Oh, my God,” he finally croaked, his free hand shaking as he brought it up to his mouth. “Oh, my God, Blaine, we have a  _son_.”

“Yeah,” said Blaine, blinking back the tears that were streaming down his face. “Yeah, we do.”

There was a high, thin wail, and the nurse who had spoken took up the small bundle, swaddled in the white towel she’d had earlier, in her arms. “Would you like to meet him before we weigh him?”

Kurt could only nod. “Yes! Yes. Oh, absolutely, yes.”

He felt his arms reach out instinctively, and then the warm weight of his son - their son - was placed in them. 

His first thought was,  _He’s so_ small _._ His second thought was,  _He’s absolutely perfect_. Tiny and wrinkled and red in the face from the exertion of being born, he shifted in the blankets, exposing a tiny curled fist with all ten fingers, perfectly shaped, each ending in a miniscule, barely-visible fingernail. 

And the nurse was right. He  _did_  have a full head of hair. Thick and dark and curly, just like Blaine’s.

“What does he look like?” Blaine asked, craning his neck. It was then that Kurt realized that Blaine, lying down as he was, couldn’t see him. 

“He kinda looks like you,” Kurt said. “But more wrinkly.” He sniffed loudly, reaching to wipe away a stray tear with the edge of his sleeve. “I can’t believe he’s finally here.”

“Neither can I. I wish I could hold him, but…” he looked down at himself. “I can’t.”

“Could I have him back for a few minutes?” the nurse asked. “We need to see how much the little guy weighs and how long he is.”

“O-okay,” Kurt said tearfully, “just - bring him back soon, okay? Oh, God, I’m such a mess, I’m sorry….”

But the nurse didn’t seem to mind. She took the baby from him and Kurt watched as he was weighed and measured on the other side of the room. He fussed and fidgeted, and wailed in protest at what was probably the cold metal of the infant scales, designed just for weighing newborn babies. 

“He’s got a good set of lungs.” the nurse said. “Do either of you two sing, by any chance?”

All they could do in response to that was laugh and share a look through tear-filled eyes. Maybe their son would be a performer, like they were. Or maybe not. 

Kurt didn’t really remember much of what happened after that. He carried the baby while Blaine was stitched up and, regrettably, handed him back to the nurse again when it was time for them to go back up to their hospital room. 

“You need to rest. It’s been a long night. Rest up, and we’ll bring him round to see you in a few hours.”

There was no point in arguing; he knew she was right. 

Blaine was asleep almost immediately. Kurt, however, remained awake, unable to keep the smile off his face. His mind was elsewhere, with their son, who was probably fast asleep just like his father.

He wondered what he was dreaming of, if he was even dreaming at all.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaine AU: A few weeks after Mr Schue’s almost-wedding and the events that followed, Blaine starts having symptoms. Symptoms that appear to be a lot like pregnancy.

It was 11am before he woke, stirring slowly and sluggishly as if he were coming up out of a river of treacle. The after-effects of the anesthesia made his head fuzzy and his vision out of focus. He rolled onto his side, squinting, and saw a familiar face.

“Mom?”

“Hi, honey,” she whispered. “How are you feeling?”

“Um.” He tried to move, then hissed in a breath through his teeth as a pinching pain spread across his stomach. There were white bandages across his middle. “Sore.”

And then he remembered.

_I had a baby last night. Or early this morning, really._

 

It was then that he realized that his Mom was holding a white-blanketed bundle, in which he could just about see the pink curve of his son’s cheek. He was fast asleep, which explained why his Mom had been whispering. There was an empty baby bottle on the nightstand by the bed.

“Is that - is that him?” Blaine asked, licking dry lips. He was thirsty, but he didn’t care. “Can I-? I didn’t get a chance to hold him before. Kurt did, though. Where is Kurt, anyway?”

“You don’t have to  _ask_  if you can hold your own baby, you know. And Kurt just went home to get a few things - he’ll be back soon. Burt and Carole are here, too, and they want to say hi.”

 _So many people_. But Blaine only cared about seeing his son.

Carefully, he reached across for him, trying not to jostle him too much in case he woke up. And then he saw him properly for the first time, and he’d be lying if he didn’t feel a lump in his throat and the telltale burning at the backs of his eyes at the sight of him.

Peacefully asleep in his blankets, he was unaware that Blaine was staring at him - taking in all of him, from his tiny socked feet and and small torso -  _so small, he’s so small_  - to his little pink hands and pink fingers, and finally to his face. Round cheeks, a slightly jutting chin -  _like Kurt’s_ , he thought - long, sweeping eyelashes casting thin grey shadows under his eyes as he slept. A button nose, turning slightly upward, and pale olive skin a couple of tones lighter than his own.

And, of course, the hair. A full head of hair, just like the nurse had told them, soft and downy to the touch. And he did touch, just for a second, just to feel the warm, living, breathing, human being in his arms.

He was the perfect combination of the two of them, and he wasn’t ashamed of the tears that streamed down his face almost without him even realizing. The only other time he had felt this happy was when Kurt had taken him back.

“Your dad says congratulations. He would be here, but he had to work,” his Mom said. “He told me to tell you that you did good, and that you and Kurt are gonna be great parents.”

“He said that?" 

"Yeah, he did. Why are so surprised? You know your dad loves you, Blaine, very much. He just isn’t very good at showing it sometimes.”

“I actually expected him to be disappointed in me.” Blaine confessed. “Having to put off going to college and everything…”

“Oh, there’ll be plenty of time for that. College isn’t going anywhere, honey. You don’t have to worry about that.” His Mom smiled. “So, does this little guy have a name yet?”

“Not yet. Kurt and I never got that far in our baby planning before he showed up unexpectedly. I have some ideas, but it’s only fair that Kurt gets a say too.” Noticing that his son hadn’t so much as shifted in his blankets the entire time they’d been talking, he said, “Wow, he’s a really heavy sleeper, isn’t he?”

“He takes after you that way, one bottle and out like a light. He hasn’t woken up since I fed him a few hours ago, while you were still sleeping. You’ll be grateful for that once you take him home.”

Blaine laughed. “Yeah, I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been dreading that part. But he seems to be holding out pretty well, so maybe it won’t be so bad.”

His Mom stood up, brushing down her pants. “I’ll leave you in peace for a little while, but I’ll be back soon, okay?”

Blaine nodded. His Mom left, and then it was just the two of them.

“Knock knock!” a voice called out from the doorway - Kurt, his face flushed pink and beaming all over. “You’re finally awake! I thought they’d given you too much anesthesia, you were out for  _hours_.” He crossed the room in three strides and bent to kiss Blaine, first on his forehead, and then on his lips, spending a few seconds longer on the second to savour the feel of his mouth on his. He jerked his head in the direction of their baby, then said in a lower voice, “How’s he holding up? Still asleep since before I left?”

“Yeah. Hasn’t moved for hours, or so Mom says. He really is beautiful, isn’t he?”

Kurt sat himself down on the few inches of space between Blaine and the edge of the hospital bed. He reached out to stroke their son’s curls gently, as if he were afraid he might break. “He is. And he’s all ours. You know, he looks just like you.”

“Really?” Blaine asked. “You think so?”

“Absolutely. I can see it in him. Those tiny little features are  _all yours_. I was kind of hoping he’d get my bone structure, but I guess not.”

“Kurt! He’s only a few hours old, he’ll grow into his….bone structure, or whatever.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

Blaine shook his head, lips pressed into a line - the kind of line that indicated he was trying not to laugh. “Nope. Not at all.”

“You  _are_!”

“Sssh! He’s sleeping!”

Kurt looked at him. “You know, you’re kinda taking all the fun out of parenting.”

“I’m not the one criticizing my less-than-a-day-old son’s bone structure.” Blaine pointed out, raising an eyebrow in Kurt’s direction in a look that said,  _Now who’s the crazy one?_

“You’re right. You’re right, I’m sorry. Perspective. And I don't  _really_  care whether or not he has my bone structure. He’s perfect,” Kurt bent his head to press a fleeting, feather-light kiss to the soft skin of his son’s forehead,“ just the way he is. And handsome,” he looked up, grinning, at Blaine, “just like his daddy.”

They sat like this, in silence, for a few moments. Minutes passed, the only sound to be heard being the sound of their breathing. Their son shifted in his blankets, stretched out a chubby arm and flexed his tiny fist, little fingers extending and then curling back in on themselves. His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t wake up; he kept on sleeping, oblivious that he was being watched by his parents. 

“You know, he still needs a name. I can’t keep calling him "Little Guy” for the rest of his life or he’ll be extremely embarrassed of me when he’s a teenager.“ Kurt said. 

"I’ve actually been thinking about that…” Blaine admitted tentatively, reaching out to brush a fingertip over their son’s closed fist, feeling the soft warmth of his skin. “I…wanted - I  _want_  - to name him after my grandfather. If that’s okay with you, because you totally get a say in this as well, because you’re also his dad and if you want something else, just say so.”

Kurt put a finger over Blaine’s lips. “Blaine, you’re babbling. And I’m sure that whatever name you have in mind will be just right for him. What is it, anyway? What was you’re grandfather’s name?”

“Um,” Blaine swallowed, slightly nervous. “It was Nathaniel. But everyone called him Nate, and I figured…that could be a kind of a nickname for him. Nathaniel is kind of a mouthful for a baby.”

“I like it.” Kurt said. “It’s traditional, and yet different. He looks like that kind of baby that suits an old-fashioned name. It’s just right.”

“You sure? Because if you have another suggestion-”

“I don’t have another suggestion.” Kurt replied, cutting Blaine off. “Blaine, I’m telling you that Nathaniel is the perfect name for him. And we can call him Nate, for short, just like you said. It's  _cute,_  and it fits him just right.”

“What do you say, hmmm?” Blaine asked, looking at their son, who was still sleeping, though becoming more restless. “You like that name?”

The baby yawned, showing off his little pink mouth, and smacked his lips together. His eyelids fluttered, and then opened, slowly, and he looked around, mesmerized by the strange new surroundings he didn’t understand yet. 

He reached out one arm over his blankets and grabbed at Kurt’s fingers, where they rested just by his side, holding on tight - tighter than Kurt had anticipated, making him gasp out loud. 

“Wow…wow, he is  _really_  strong,” Kurt said. “He’s holding on so tightly, I can’t believe it.”

“I think that means he likes you.” Blaine said. “Don’t you? You like grabbing your dad’s fingers like that?” he cooed, smiling widely. 

Kurt rolled his eyes, but allowed his son to keep hold of his fingers, squeezing experimentally as he discovered the use of his hands - that, in fact, those odd-shaped things at the end of his arms  _were_  his hands. He couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to watch him as he came to explore and discover the world around him; different tastes and smells, shapes, noises and colours. 

“So it’s decided, then?” he asked. “We’re calling him Nate?”

“Yeah. Nate Hummel-Anderson. Or Anderson-Hummel, I haven’t decided yet.”

“You’ve thought about his  _last name?_ ” Kurt was taken by surprise; he hadn’t even  _thought_  - it hadn’t entered his mind that their son would take their last names, at least, not together, with a hyphen. He would be lying if he denied that it made his chest constrict at the thought of their child sharing their last names - a real part of them, truly their child and no-one else’s. 

“That’s okay, right?” Blaine asked. “I mean, I  _do_  plan to be with you for the rest of my life. You, and our son, who hasn’t stopped staring at me for the last few minutes and I don’t know whether to be freaked out or flattered.”

“He’s remembering your face.” Kurt said. “So he can recognize you and think,  _that’s my daddy_.” Kurt kissed Blaine, then, smiling into the wetness of tears on Blaine’s cheek. “You’re crying." 

"It’s happy tears.” Blaine insisted. “I’m happy. Aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.” Kurt said. “How can I not be? I have the most perfect boyfriend in the world, and a beautiful baby son. I’m happy. So, so happy.”

“Gah!” Nate added from the depths of his blankets, evidently testing out his brand-new vocal chords. “Gah!”

“I think he might be trying to tell us something.” Kurt said. “Shall I get another bottle ready for him in case he wants to eat?”

“That would be great.” Blaine smiled. “If he’s anything like me when I was a kid, if he doesn’t get fed when he wants to, he’ll get cranky. Won’t you, Nate? Are you a cranky baby?”

Kurt shook his head at Blaine’s antics, baby-voice and all, as he grabbed the empty baby bottle off the nightstand and the tin of formula in the drawer, placed there courtesy of Blaine’s mother, and went in search of a kettle to boil some water. 

               ________________________________________

On the second day after Nate was born, the doctor came round to tell them that everything checked out alright and since Nate was doing exceptionally well, they could go home. 

 _Home_. They’d had this discussion before, about just exactly where “home” would be. It would be easier, they’d decided, if Blaine and Nate came to live with Kurt and his parents, at least until they were settled and all three of them were ready to make the move to New York together.

They’d decided on that, too. When Kurt went back to NYADA in January, as per his arrangement with Carmen Tibideaux, Blaine would be staying in Lima with Nate. Then, when the semester was up, they would join Kurt in New York. In the meantime, Kurt would look for a suitable apartment for them to live in once that happened, because they could hardly fit four people and a baby in the loft at Bushwick. As much as it pained Kurt to give up the loft, he knew they’d have to find their own place eventually, so why not start looking as soon as possible?

So that afternoon, they strapped Nate into his brand-new baby carrier, which he fussed and wailed in protest about for a good ten minutes before they were able to calm him down, loaded him into the car, and drove him home for the very first time. 

Kurt would be lying if he said it hadn’t been an emotional moment for him - for the both of them. Even as he drove, his hands shook on the steering wheel and he found himself blinking back tears every time he checked the rearview mirror and spotted Nate in his car-seat, arms waving in the air as if he wanted to reach out and touch the strange new things around him, but couldn’t,  because he didn’t know how to do that. He looked so small in the car-seat, his little legs barely coming to the edge of the seat, almost dwarfed by it, making him look even smaller. Eventually, he fell asleep, when they were just twenty minutes from Lima.

Pulling up into the driveway of his - now their - house, they sat in silence for a minute or two before getting out of the car. He knew his dad and Carole would be there waiting for them, ready to greet them and help them with whatever they needed. Nate’s things needed sorting out and putting in the nursery, they needed to make an appointment with the home-care midwife who would be stopping by in a week or so, buy diapers and more baby formula and that baby-friendly shampoo that the nurse at the hospital had used when she’d given Nate a bath.

How could one little person need  _so much_?

Blaine turned to him, reaching for the handle on the door of the car. “Ready?" 

"Do we have a choice?” Kurt asked in reply, feeling the nerves creeping back up. 

“C'mon,” Blaine said. “Let’s get his lordship inside. We can’t stay in here forever, right?”

“Why are you so smart?” Kurt groaned, mostly to himself, because he knew Blaine was right. Trust him to be the sensible, rational one. Then again, he always had been.

“It’s a gift.” Blaine grinned. “Now,  _come on_. We have a lot of stuff to do.”

“Okay. Okay, you’re right. But you are forbidden from doing any heavy lifting, you hear me? The doctor said no strenuous physical exercise and/or exertion for at least six weeks, until your stitches get taken out.”

Blaine rolled his eyes - but he was smiling. “Fine”

His father’s car was outside, but when they opened the door, neither he nor Carole were anywhere to be seen. 

Putting the bag of diapers he’d been carrying on the kitchen table, Kurt called out, “Hello? Dad? Carole? Anyone home?”

Silence. Where  _were_  they? 

“No one home?” Blaine asked, confused. “But the car’s right outside…” He paused for a moment. “I’ll go fetch Nate.”

“Be careful with the carrier!” Kurt called after him as he went through the front door.

 _This is weird_ , Kurt thought.  _Why is no one home if my dad’s car’s right outside?_

Then he heard muffled noises coming from behind the living-room door - noises that definitely didn’t sound like just two people.

_What the-?_

“I swear our kid is some kind of miracle baby,” Blaine announced, coming back into the kitchen with Nate in tow. “He's  _asleep._ Again. And he barely moved when I picked him up. I think we got lucky with him - Kurt? Are you listening?”

“Sssh!” Kurt waved a hand vaguely in Blaine’s direction. “I don’t think we’re alone in the house. My dad and Carole have people over and I can  _hear them_ _behind the door_.”

“And that’s a problem, because…?” Blaine asked, trailing off as he unbuckled the baby carrier and lifted Nate out of it, holding him close to his body and ruffling his hair, smiling to himself. “Have you noticed how peaceful he looks when he’s asleep? Like nothing could possibly be bothering him.”

“ _Blaine,_ ” Kurt said, “aren’t you the least bit curious as to why my parents are apparently hiding from us and also have people over that they didn’t tell us about?”

“Kurt, you’re far too suspicious,” Blaine reasoned, now gently rocking Nate where he rested in the crook of his neck. “It’s probably nothing.”

Kurt watched him, feeling his bristling annoyance softening somewhat. Blaine was a natural at this, this parenting thing. Like he was supposed to be a father, all along. Kurt felt a strong sense of pride watching him, and knew that he’d chosen the right person to have a child with. There was no one more caring, or more generous, or more kind, than Blaine. They were the exact qualities that would make him an amazing father. 

“You know, we  _should_  probably go and see your dad and Carole,” Blaine said. “You go in, I’ll just make up a bottle for this little guy for when he wakes and I’ll follow you.”

Kurt made a face. “Do I really have to go in without you?” \

“Yes.”

He sighed, then said, “Ok _ay_ , if you insist.”

Kurt left Blaine to it, picking his way across the hall to the living room. He knocked, once, but received no answer, so he gently pushed open the door, wincing at the way it squeaked loudly.  _I really need to oil that at some point_ , he thought,  _especially if the noise is likely to wake up Nate if he’s sleeping_. 

“We’re home!” Kurt called. “Why are you hiding in-”

“SURPRISE!”

Kurt jumped about a foot in the air at the cacophony of voices from the people in the room - and there were a lot of people. Not just his dad and Carole, who were beaming, but Blaine’s parents as well, and Rachel and Santana ( _When did_ they  _get here?)_ and Tina and Sam, and -  _Cooper?_  What the hell was  _he_  doing here, after the way he’d treated Blaine not a few months previously? _  
_

But Kurt barely had time to react to the shock of seeing so many of the people he loved in the same room; he simply stood there, staring, with his mouth open like a goldfish.

“What are you - I mean, how did you-? What’s going on?” Kurt managed to eventually get out, looking from one person to another in disbelief. 

“We thought we’d throw you a surprise welcome home party,” his dad said. “Plus, these two -” he pointed to Sam and Tina - “were gettin’ annoyed that they haven’t been invited to see Nate yet, so I told them they could come.”

“Um-” Kurt looked around, struggling to find something to say. “This is really…unexpected. And it’s such a brilliant surprise, I had no idea you were all going to be here!”

“Well, that  _is_  the definition of a surprise, Kurt,” his dad said. “We - Carole and I - wanted to do something nice for you two, to ease you into the whole being a parent thing.”

“Thank you,” Kurt replied. “Thank you, so, so much, dad. It’s - the best - thing - I - I- oh God, now I’m crying. Sorry.”

“Kurt, why are you taking so long - woah, why is everyone we know in your living room?” Blaine appeared round the door then, Nate awake and babbling nonsensically at his shoulder, eyes thick with sleep. Evidently,  he’d just woken up. He looked so _vulnerable_  like that, just coming out of sleep and unsure of what was going on. He definitely wouldn’t have any idea why there were so many people here to see him, that he was, to all intents and purposes, the (Little) Man of the Hour.

“Surprise!” Kurt said weakly, dabbing at his eyes with his sleeve. “It’s a surprise party. For us. Apparently it was organized completely without either of us realizing.”

Blaine stared for a moment, lost for words. Nate twisted his head, trying to get a look at the people assembled in the room. Kurt noticed that his dark hair was sticking up adorably on one side, where he’d slept on it, little tufts pointing in this and that direction in the cutest way.

“Okay, so are we allowed to get a good look at the new spawn, or not?” Santana butt in, folding her arms. Rachel jabbed her in the side, glaring. 

“What?” she said. “I’m on a tight schedule!”

“I thought you said you had no classes for the next week.” Tina pointed, frowning at her. “And shut up, because he is not a  _spawn_. He’s a baby. And his name is Nate.”

“Thanks,  _Tina,"_ Blaine said pointedly, looking directly at Santana as he did so, who merely uncrossed her arms, put her hands on her hips, and pretended to look bored. "And since you  _didn’t_  insult my child, you get to hold him first. What do you say to that, hm? You want to meet your Auntie Tina?” he cooed, as if he actually expected Nate to respond. He gave an imperceptible jerk of the head, eyes wide and curious. “I think that’s a yes!”

While Blaine brought Nate over and allowed Sam and Tina to gush over him in exaggerated tones, Kurt sought out Cooper, who was standing a little back from the main group. He watched Blaine with the expression of someone who was torn between two decisions. Kurt thought he could guess quite accurately what those decisions were.

When he reached his side, he said, “Can we talk?”

Cooper started, then turned to face Kurt. “Aw, crap. I knew you’d stake me out as soon as Blaine was distracted.”

“So, can we?” Kurt prodded, unresistant. 

“Fine.”

No-one seemed to notice them leaving the room, and for that Kurt was grateful. He wanted to let Blaine have his moment with their son and show him off to all their family and friends, just the way he wanted to. He’d come back later and do the same thing himself, of course he would. But right now, there was something he needed to settle. 

“Why are you here?” Kurt asked, as soon as they were in the privacy of the kitchen. 

“Because Mom called me and told me I had a nephew that I should meet. And because I want to make it up to Blaine. I know I made a mistake-”

Kurt snorted, cutting him off. He laughed, sarcastically. “You think? You practically told him that keeping our child was a mistake, that you were  _ashamed_  of him, of us, for even wanting to keep our child. I’d thought that you might have at least tried to be a bit more sympathetic. I gave you the benefit of the doubt because you’re Blaine’s brother, but you really hurt him.”

“I know. And that’s why I’m here. I want to tell him I’m sorry. I was wrong to assume that keeping the baby would be a mistake. I mean, have you  _seen_  him in there? He  _loves_  it. He loves being a dad. And I was a jerk to suggest he couldn’t be.”

“So go tell him that.” Kurt said. “He needs to know you support him. He cares what you think.”

“And what about you?” Cooper asked. 

“I love Blaine.” Kurt said. “I love our son. They’re my family. And, in case you haven’t noticed, I kinda come down hard on people who hurt my family. But I’m willing to make amends -  _if_  you apologize to Blaine, and tell him what you just told me.”

“Deal." 

Kurt let himself smile despite himself. "C'mon. I want you to meet your nephew.”

Cooper gladly followed him back into the living room. 

                 __________________________________________

Later, much later, when everyone had gone and dinner had been eaten, long after Burt and Carole had gone to bed, Kurt and Blaine were both still awake.

“Is he asleep?” Kurt asked, as Blaine collapsed onto the couch next to him, careful of his stitches, pale and tired but practically glowing from within, happy and proud as he was. 

“Yeah, at last. It took some convincing, but I think he’ll sleep through for a few hours now, at least.” Blaine yawned, burrowing down so that he could rest his head on Kurt’s shoulder. 

Kurt reached for something - a bottle of champagne, and two glasses, which had been sitting on the coffee table but which Blaine hadn’t noticed. He watched, confused, as Kurt poured two glasses and handed one to him. 

“What’s all this for?”

“To celebrate.” Kurt said. “I propose a toast,” he held up his glass, “to our new family. I love you so, so much, more than I could ever put into words. I am so happy that we decided to have a baby together, and I’m excited to share every moment of raising our child with you.”

“I love you, Kurt,” Blaine said, surging forward to kiss him with as much passion as he could muster. “I love you so much.”

Kurt used his free hand to grip Blaine’s shoulder, holding him in place as they kissed, warm and hungry, not caring about going slow or being chaste. He knew that his face was wet with leaking tears, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to keep kissing Blaine. 

When they pulled apart, breathless and red-cheeked, Blaine raised his glass. “To us.”

“To being the most fabulous parents in Lima and New York combined.”

“Agreed.”

They touched glasses, making a light, clinking sound that reverberated through the air. 

They each took a sip, feeling giddy and giggly and emotional, but overall, feeling _happy_. Everything about the moment was about them, about their son, about the family they had created together. It was the best moment, the best feeling, that they both had ever remembered experiencing. And neither of them would change it for the world. 

**THE END**


End file.
